We Ain't Kids
by T.S. Blue
Summary: Before they can reunite, the Duke boys must go their own ways. Rated T for language, and just general roughness. Complete.
1. Starry Nights

_Hi all! Just a warning (the first of many) -- this one may wind up with more notes than story._

_First, let me give you a heads up that this one is sort of different. It shows a rougher side of the boys. Some folks may not like this, and I can't say that I blame anyone. We all like to see them in certain ways, and this may not be anyone's favorite view. So if you aren't enjoying it, please feel free to opt out. I won't hold any grudges. I even sort of hesitated to post it, because I don't want to upset anyone's image of the boys._

_The writing style on this one's kind of unusual for me, too. What can I say? Bo and Luke kind of insisted on it. _If you're going to make us do this_, they said, _at least let us do it our way_. (You'll note that they sort of keep a running commentary...)_

_Now for just a bit of explanation._ _The first reunion movie always struck me as odd. I mean, this was a family that was extraordinarily tied to one another. More than the terms of the boys' probation, and stronger than fear of losing the farm, they just seemed like a group of people that would stay together. Maybe not in the same house, but in the same town, at least. __But instead, the kids all left and wound up getting so out of touch that they were surprised to hear that Rosco had taken over as Boss. _

_So I started playing with -- what would make them leave? And in the process, I came out with this. This_ does not_ stick with all the elements presented in the reunion movie, b__ut I do pick up a lot of them._

_Okay, enough notes. If I haven't scared you off yet... well, on with the story._

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**Chapter 1 – Starry Nights**

Luke knew what Bo was going to do, even before the fist hit his face. It was one of the benefits of years spent within an arm's reach of one another. It might have been the squint of deep blue eyes or the curl of the left corner of the upper lip, somewhere between a smile and a sneer. Or it might just have been that Luke's words and actions had been calculated to hurt his younger cousin.

Anticipating the impact didn't make it any less painful, though, and while his impulsive cousin had Luke's permission to be angry, punching was a bit above and beyond. It was just that Luke had gotten tired of _explaining_, providing intelligent and logical words that Bo wasn't listening to anyway. So he'd said words that couldn't be taken back, and probably shouldn't be.

And understanding the reasons behind the punch_ sure as heck_ didn't mean Luke was going to let it happen again. The next fist coming at him didn't send his chin back the way the first had. No, this one landed comparatively harmlessly on Luke's forearm, sliding off as the brunette continued to move quickly, grabbing Bo's arm and forcing it away. It wasn't pretty, but it achieved the goal, leaving Bo's face open for Luke's balled fist.

Bo saw it coming and in that split second did more thinking than he had in the last half hour.

_Should know better than to hit Luke. He always pulls his punches, but not by much. Years in the boxing ring, actually trained in hand-to-hand combat, and muscles on every inch of him – he's got the advantage_. And – bam – Bo saw stars. Felt the ground as it hit his back.

Luke, somehow, came with him, the grip of their arms and the momentum behind the punch, probably. Whatever – Luke just came with him when he fell, insult to injury, knocking breath from his lungs.

A thought, so girly he hated it, formed in Bo's brain as he gasped for breath with a sound that approached, but never quite reached, a sob. _It wasn't what he said, but the way he said it_. Even as he mentally cringed, Bo knew that it was true. The actual words hardly mattered.

It was always hard to say, just before Luke let loose with something genuinely nasty, whether the corners of his mouth pulled up, or the center of his upper lip came down. A smirk so subtle that only those who had watched him closely or knew him well could really see it. A look that said _I am smarter than you_. No, not just that. _I am too smart for you_.

Air, sweet air into his lungs, breathing now, and this was good because as long as he could breathe, he didn't have to think; he could act. And his first act was to roll Luke off him, roll them together, get his cousin on the ground and himself above so he could deliver another blow, one that Luke squirmed away from. _Again, dang it, again he's making sure not to really hurt me_. Because Bo hadn't thought about the angle between them and what would happen if Luke got all the way out from under his fist, not when he'd pulled back as far as he could and swung with most of his might. Had his big cousin rolled his head completely out of line with the punch, Bo could have expected some broken knuckles, fisting into the ground that hard.

"Dang it, Luke!"

Not fair that the little brat was complaining, not when he'd just cuffed Luke in the ear, and as hard as he had. No doubt in Luke's mind that his lip was bleeding and his ear was a bright red, and Bo had thrown the first punch but was still complaining at him. Neither a good winner nor a good loser, his cousin. And Luke was definitely going to make sure he didn't win –

The blonde was already off balance from grazing Luke more than smashing him, and this made it easy to throw him off. A satisfying thud-grunt and Bo was on his back again. Luke knew better, though, than to climb on top of him. Leverage was good, but not like that. A real man didn't pin his opponent to the ground, but stood, facing his adversary. The older cousin got up, knowing Bo wouldn't be far behind, not with Luke pulling him to his feet like he was.

Licked at the corner of his lip, yep, blood. Saw the sheen of sweat on Bo's flushed face – fair skinned kid like Bo always turned red with only the slightest provocation. Saw the anger and the hurt and the determination all at once in the hard mask that Bo was hiding behind, the angles of his face all tight. Didn't want to look at that face anymore, not with the dirt streaking down it in the drops of sweat, left eye slightly more squinted than the right. So he punched him low, in the gut, stole his breath and heard him cough, but mercifully, Bo doubled over so Luke wouldn't have to look at that face anymore.

Again, he knew what was coming, even before the action was completed. He'd taught Bo this one day, back when they were kids, and Luke was so much bigger. _You wasn't supposed to outgrow me, cuz. You wasn't supposed to grow up at all_. Stupid thing to be thinking as Bo was linking his hands and turning to the side that way. An elbow in his breadbasket, and Luke was bent and coughing too. _Not gonna go down. Won't give him the satisfaction_.

Damn it, why couldn't his cousin listen to his words instead of his fists? This had always been a problem between them, Luke thinking in words like he did, and Bo in pictures. Another useless memory – Luke realizing, as the younger boy hit puberty, that Bo associated ideas with images more readily than sounds. _See him staring at that girl? He's not thinking about how to talk to her, not Bo. He's just enjoying the view; every curve on her body means more to him than a thousand words I could say_. Unlike Luke, who always had to communicate, to tell people what he needed from them. The oldest Duke cousin was a leader, had to actually talk to his followers, or they wouldn't know what they were supposed to do. Bo could picture his life away while Luke talked the two of them out of trouble that the little twerp had started in the first place…

And the struggle to breathe was over, Bo charging at him again, just as angry, and Luke was, too. _I'm making sense, damnit, and he has to get all stubborn on me_.

_He ain't the only stubborn one_. Uncle Jesse's voice, mocking from somewhere inside his head, just as Bo lunged, and Luke used the motion against him. Felt the hard, painful crush of Bo's muscle and bone into his chest, but caught him anyway, twisting and letting them both thump to the ground again, Bo's shoulder coming up just as Luke's head came down, making Luke bite him (_gonna be more blood, now, and loose teeth, too_).

"Ow!" Not sure who said that. Maybe both.

But Luke was done thinking in words or pictures or anything. Sitting up on Bo's chest, he grabbed that stupid t-shirt with his right hand, and pulled the left back to hit him. Didn't care if it really, really hurt. Looked down and planned where his fist ought to land. Bo, not even cringing, practically daring him. _Go ahead, cuz_.

Bo. No one would look at him so defiantly, not when he was poised on top, ready to deliver a serious blow. Not when he was so capable of hurting him like that. But there, in the indigo glare, the farmyard-filthy hair, the hands staying down, no longer fighting him, but just daring him with more gusto then he'd punched a only few seconds ago, was Bo. No one could get under his skin like his cousin, but then again, no one else could make him feel this… bad.

"Geez, Bo," he said, sitting back, arm coming down to his side, grip on Bo's shirt loosening.

And Luke had no right to start feeling bad now, not when Bo was still so dang mad at him. Pushing up on his elbows, struggling against the weight above him, scrambling and pushing, and Luke wasn't helping, just sitting on him, all heavy like that. Wanted to get up and have enough leverage to swing at his cousin, but that wasn't going to happen, at least not fast enough to suit Bo's current need, so he grabbed hold of Luke's shirt, heard a quiet rip somewhere, and pulled his cousin forward.

Not sure what he'd had in mind, but it sure wasn't this. Stars again. It couldn't have been three minutes since the last time he'd seen them and now, here they were, back again. Very short days between these starry nights.

"Uff!" Well, that was a good sign. Seemed to have hurt Luke, too, their foreheads colliding like that. Bo really was an idiot sometimes. _He's shorter than you and sitting in your lap, for cryin' out loud. What do you think is going to happen when you pull him towards you like that?_

Thinking hurt, though. Thinking about Luke looking at him that way, making that face, talking to him like he was still a little kid. Bo didn't want to think.

Tried not to, as he lay there, aware that Luke was no longer sitting on him, that somewhere in the simple black-and-white pain, his cousin had rolled off and was also prone, next to him somewhere. Could tell by the heavy breathing, the half-curses being panted somewhere near his left ear. Must have hurt Luke pretty good with that move; that boy knew better than to say those kinds of words on Jesse's land.

A few seconds later Bo realized that some of those sounds were coming from his own lips, those uncle-forbidden words. Typical. His mouth often went solo, operating without the assistance of his brain. So did his fists, come to think of it. Cussing wasn't the only thing they shouldn't have been doing on Jesse's land.

Even if Jesse was safely in town, and they knew he'd be there for hours. Even if Daisy had married, then gotten dragged off to North Carolina by her husband. Well, dragged probably wasn't fair, she'd been okay with going. It was Bo that had a problem with it. Had a problem with all of this, and Luke wasn't helping, not one bit.

"We ain't kids no more, Bo."

Wasn't sure how Luke meant that, could be taken a few ways. Like the fact that every bruise and cut on his body hurt right now, not like when they were little and could bounce right back up after a horse threw them (_or a horse's ass_ – trying with every ounce of energy in his being to stay mad at Luke). Or could be taken as the continuation of the argument that had started this whole thing. Either way, it came out of nowhere and everywhere and Bo decided to laugh at it.

Decided, but apparently his throat didn't agree and it choked off in the middle of a giggle. Quickly, Bo rolled onto his side, facing away from Luke.

Of all the things he'd seen coming today, Luke hadn't expected that. Probably should have, but didn't. Because he knew exactly what it was, right away.

"Aw, Bo… don't."

Scrambling to his feet now, because Luke said that as if Bo had a choice, and he didn't. If he could just – not – he wouldn't be. But he was. So he got up and stalked away from Luke. Heard the dirt rustle somewhere at his back, heard Luke brushing his jeans off and walking along behind him, not far enough behind. In his younger days, Bo would have run, but somehow Luke always caught up to him anyway, so why waste his effort that way? Walked out of the clearing of the farmyard and stopped, counting the seconds as the rhythm of Luke's steps got closer, as familiar as the sound of denim scraping on a metal doorframe. Let his cousin turn him, hands on his shoulders.

"Aw, Bo."

"Shut up, Luke." No malice in that, just really wanting his cousin not to talk now. Words, they had never been Bo's preferred manner of expression anyway. He used his hands for that, affectionately or angrily or compassionately.

Luke knew that, just nodded. Fifteen years ago, even five, and this would have ended differently. Or wouldn't even have started. But if by some twist of time it had, they'd be all right now, hugging and forgiving. Today, though, they just stood there, looking at each other, Bo blinking away the evidence, Luke managing not to treat his cousin like a kid. A lot more effort to that than Bo might have guessed.

A nod from the blonde and Luke knew it was okay to talk again. Whatever happened, he would never know anyone as well as he knew the man in front of him.

"You don't need me to wipe your nose for you no more, cousin." Something that again, had two meanings, but Bo would understand what he meant, that he was taking back only part of what he'd said, removing the nastiness, keeping the truth.

"But we've always been a team." Indisputable.

"True. But they don't want me, they want you." This ought to be going differently – Luke should be jealous, angry that he wasn't wanted. But he wasn't. He'd – changed? Grown up? Didn't know, but his heart wasn't in this kind of thing anymore. Like the military, in a way. He'd done it, and now he was done with it. But Bo never would be.

"If they don't want both of us…"

"No, Bo."

"But, we could keep trying…"

"I ain't going with you, Bo. Even if they did change their minds."

The quiet, gentle words were no less painful than the mean ones had been, even if there was no _you're such an idiot_ in Luke's eyes or the lines of his face.

Again with the wanting to run, and it was just so stupid because he wanted to escape so that he could get away from the fact that Luke was telling him to leave. Tried to turn away, but Luke wasn't allowing it, hands on his shoulders holding him firm. He could force it, if he wanted to, but that would break the physical contact, and Bo didn't want that. _Never more than an arm's length away, cuz_.

Their bedroom was small, but it would have tolerated more space between them. Still, when Bo was young enough to not like the dark (_not afraid, Luke, just don't like it. Sure, cousin, I believe you_) they'd aligned their beds no more than an arm's length apart, and the room was still arranged that way some twenty-plus years later. Back then, Luke had promised (out of a desire for sleep more than anything else) to stay within arm's reach. Bo hadn't always been able to hold him to that, but he'd always wanted to.

"Jesse…" Bo croaked, voice sounding like the General on a cold morning, a growl, yes, but weary.

"Wants you to go, and you know it. Things have changed, cousin."

_Damn it, Luke_. Why did he have to be so honest all the time – no, not honest, too nice a word for it – blunt? Bo felt the last of his façade crumbling. And he'd worked so hard at it, too. Felt Luke squeeze his shoulder, a silent question in that. Proud blonde head dropping, an answer. Letting Luke slip his arms around him, giving up. Oh, not everything, just this fight against himself. The fight against Luke, that would continue, as soon as Bo was ready.

Things had changed. They'd paid off the mortgage, for one. Boss Hogg had been ill for awhile, a slow cancer, likely from the cigars. He'd mellowed, allowed things to happen that his younger self would have forbidden. Like the Dukes paying off the mortgage, unmolested.

Daisy had married L.D., a real creep of a guy in Bo's opinion, but Bo's opinion hadn't mattered worth a bucket of spit. And then she'd moved far enough away that they didn't see her but a few times a year.

Their probation had ended. Three seemingly good things, all to be celebrated, and then a fourth – income from sold shares of the cotton mill. Jesse was entitled to part of it from the time he'd built the coalition that had saved the place, then served on the board of directors through its transition from a small town industry to a major regional textile producer. What Jesse got wasn't much, but they didn't need much anymore. Just enough to feed and clothe themselves.

Good things had happened to the Duke family. And those things had all congregated, congealed in the hot Georgia sunshine, into this moment, the first time the Duke boys had fought like this in years, the first time Luke had ever all but ordered him out of his life.

At least his cousin had the good sense not to talk now, not to even move, not actively comforting Bo in any way, just letting his arms hang gently around him. Same firm feel Bo had known since childhood – never more than an arm's length away.

Jesse didn't want Bo to go, not exactly, Luke had said that wrong. A mental kick to himself, because the result was obvious, and Bo hurt enough already. (So did Luke. Not kids anymore, and the dang ground had gotten harder, too.) What Jesse had said was –

"You ain't really decided to stay in Hazzard; just not to leave. You gotta go away to know that you want to live here." Typical Jesse down-home backwards logic. So backwards you couldn't argue with it.

Though Bo (_idiot!_) had tried.

"We did, though, we joined the circuit and left and then decided to come home."

"That wasn't decidin', not really. That was worryin' – about me, and about this here farm. Now that you got nothin' to worry about, you need to try again."

So Bo had begun, halfheartedly, to talk to their old contacts on the circuit, suggesting that the Duke boys might be ready to come out of retirement. But the offer had come for Bo alone. Okay with Luke, but not the blonde who was just now pushing away from him –

"Let me go, Luke," he said, pointlessly, since Luke was already letting him go, actually pushing him to go. Bo walked away, but not far, just enough to be alone for a few minutes. Barely beyond arm's reach.


	2. The Least it Could Have Done Was Rained

_Hey, all! Thanks for your positive response to this story so far. I really wasn't sure whether I should post it or not, so I appreciate the encouragement!_

_That said, I have another warning to place here._ Yes, t_he impetus behind this thing** was** that I was trying to wrap my head around what might make the Duke family go their different ways, like they had in the reunion shows. But even as I wrote each chapter (or Bo and Luke did, it seems - I have varying control over what I write for them, and in this case I had almost none) it became apparent that I couldn't dovetail it into ending where that first movie began. So, I pick up a lot of canon things in here, but there are others that never come to pass._

_I don't own the Dukes and I mean no harm to those who do. _

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**Chapter 2 – The Least it Could Have Done was Rained**

"Take the General, Bo."

Maybe if it had come out like an offer instead of an order… but no.

"I don't want him." Stupid sulky sound to that and Bo didn't mean it. Meant the words, but not the sound of them. How could he pretend to explain _that_ to his cousin? Slight squint, then those bright blue eyes relaxed, as if they'd always been that way, but Bo knew. That had hurt Luke (_good, he started it_) and that wasn't helping. "Not without you."

"Bo," again, that tone of Luke being too smart, or Bo too stupid, and either way, Bo didn't want to hear it right now.

"I said no, Luke." No, with a firmness bordering on anger in the muscles of his face, and the rigidity of a man that was ready to go another round.

Luke's hands were up, signaling truce. Another few minutes to rest before one of them said something that the other couldn't stand, and their chins went up, chests puffed, ready to give each other new bruises, and the old ones hadn't even begun to heal.

This, finally, was what made Bo decide. The knowledge that staying wouldn't stop the fighting; the only thing that would was leaving. Somehow the family farm finally _had_ gotten too small for the both of them.

It was Daisy's fault for going like that, Bo was sure of it. Didn't know how, because it sure hadn't ever seemed like it, but she must have been the glue that kept the boys together.

The fighting and also Jesse, made him choose. A quiet walk around a comparatively tiny crop line (_used to plant all the way out through the south forty, but now it's just near the house, and Jesse ain't gonna keep but a garden next year_) and more words than Bo could deal with. Sounded wise, but they didn't make a lick of sense.

"You ain't hardly left Hazzard, Bo. You need to see more of the world."

Right, like Jesse had seen the world. He'd never been further than Tennessee, as far as Bo knew.

"You and Luke done sacrificed the best years of your life, what with the probation for runnin' my 'shine, and workin' this here farm."

As if there was anyplace else they ought to have been. As if it had been anything but a lot of fun for them both. No place else in the world you can jump a car over a creek and no one bats an eye.

But there was audible guilt in the voice, out-shouting the calm way in which the old man spoke. And worry, too, because when Bo pulled an arm across his chest, stretching out a sore muscle –

"You boys need to go your separate ways for awhile. You're hurtin' each other, holdin' each other back."

"Luke ain't holdin' me back." Stupid thing to say. If there was one thing Luke did, it was hold him back.

"_Luke, fist fighting's only a misdemeanor - will you let me hit him?" Hating those hands holding him by the shoulders._

"_Yeah, but assault and battery _ain't_!" Again with that I'm-working-overtime-to-explain-a-simple-concept-to-you tone to his voice. _

Literally, physically, Luke held him back. From all sorts of danger, Luke held him back. He owed his life to Luke, ten times over – and that went both ways. So why was his family pushing him to leave?

Stupid cousins, first Daisy paving the way with her marriage to that jerk, and now Luke practically kicking him out of their bedroom. Like when they were kids and he'd remind Bo that he'd been there first so technically the room was more his. Then they'd divide it down the middle with tape and string, which was no fair because Luke got the door, and Bo got the closet. Luke could go for days without the closet, but Bo needed the door. _I can't leave the room because the door's on Luke's side _was no kind of an excuse for not doing chores, not to no-nonsense Jesse Duke.

No more fighting, the only thought strong enough to make Bo return some calls and pack a few things.

Damn Luke. He didn't even have the decency to pretend that he might miss his cousin, the shadow that had followed him through most of his life. _Not followed, Bo, you done led us into trouble quite enough, thanks. _And he guessed he didn't really need Luke by his side, what with the way his bossy cousin kept a running commentary going in his head anyway. _Shoot, Luke, we_ have _been sitting in the same car too long…_

And now Luke was trying to push the last thing they shared, the General, out of his life, too.

"Do you hate me, Luke?" Out of his mouth before he could think. Thinking was a waste of time, anyway.

That look on his cousin's face again – _too smart for this conversation_ with just a touch of _you're an idiot, but at least you're a funny idiot_. Bo's fists weren't bothering to think either, balling up at his sides again, could just feel his own eyes squinting down. Heard the puff of air that was Luke laughing at him again, and _stand by cuz, incoming fist_ –

Never got there. Thoughtfulness might not have been Luke's strong suit, but Bo's chin had just come up again, those eyes had cooled, and muscles pulled his shirt taut.

"No, cuz, I don't hate you." All the honesty and bluntness in Luke behind those words. Every minute spent hiding out from the law, every time that he'd trusted the blonde to get them across a ravine in one piece, every drop of moonshine in Jesse's old car on that fateful night years ago, was behind those words. Anything less, and Bo would have swung.

His crummy little cousin had always assumed that these things didn't hurt Luke, but they did. The nasty words, the fists, the separations – were as bad on Luke as anything had ever been. But in these moments, logic was Luke's friend. He knew his cousin didn't have any of that to fall back on, and he felt bad about it, but he couldn't change it.

Just a nod, and Bo walked away. As if he'd really just needed to get an answer to that question. Like it was possible that he believed Luke hated him, and if that was the case, a simple reassurance would make the possibility go away.

Nothing in Luke's life was ever that simple. Cousins to be protected, always at the top of his list of daily chores. Responsibility to others above himself, the price of achieving rank, or just plain being older. The rhythm of his life since – forever. Then Daisy had gone and broken that pattern for him, marrying that loser (oh, Luke hated him too, just not in that obvious give-me-half-a-reason-to-deck-you-please way that Bo did) leaving him with only half a job. Thought he'd replace that energy with farm work, but Jesse was cutting back, spending more time in town, taking care of J.D. Hogg, of all things. Luke offered to take over Jesse's share of the work load, but the old man had pulled rank on him. _No, Luke, not now. Maybe in a few years, but not now. _Somehow Jesse needed to see his old nemesis off to the great beyond before letting the farm thrive again.

But Bo – Bo was still here by Luke's side, still looking up to him like he always had. And with all the force of a Marine Sergeant, Luke had turned his attentions there.

Fights that Bo was now conveniently forgetting had been the result of that. So many stupid things he'd done in life, and the stupidest of all always involved pushing Bo too far. No, they hadn't come to blows, not then. But the stench of the struggle between them was something that surrounded them everywhere they went. Even Rosco kind of wrinkled up his nose upon seeing them enter the Boar's Nest, and the sheriff couldn't smell the stink of basset hound that filled the cab of his cruiser.

The law left them alone. Hogg was letting things slip. With no system to fight, the Duke boys were fighting each other.

Jesse started to nudge them out of the nest. And his foolish cousin was acting like he didn't have wings. All that God-given talent, and he was willing to pretend he didn't have it so he could stay on the farm. If things had been different, if Luke could have brought himself to be jealous, they would have fought about that, too. But Luke had interests beyond cars; almost against his will he had come to see that the General wasn't enough anymore. More important things like farming and family and – just other stuff – nothing he'd thought too hard about. He didn't have to, not when he knew he'd be the Duke patriarch someday…

This NASCAR offer was the best thing his bratty little cousin was likely to get, and he was fighting it tooth and nail. Asking if Luke hated him when in reality, Luke loved him probably more than anyone (_ain't supposed to have favorites in the family, but I do_). Followed his cousin off to where he stood staring at the jagged Hazzard horizon, to tell him something to that effect.

And so Bo found himself on a bus, leaving home. He'd never left home with intent before, aside from that day or so that he'd stayed with Diane and the carnival. That was the last time he and Luke had really hurt each other. This time was worse, because no matter how many times they made up, he knew they would fight again. So he'd packed a few things and gotten on the bus. Left Luke with the General and promises that they would see each other soon, and no more fighting –

Hugged Luke for all he was worth, and it was a good thing the bus was waiting or he would never have let him go. Heard the telltale roughness of Luke's voice telling him how proud he was and that Bo would do just great. Heard himself make a small sound, close to a whimper, felt Luke pretend to ignore it in the tightness of his arms, and then his stupid cousin had thumped him on the back and let go. Let him get right on the bus and actually smiled at him, like this wasn't the end of everything. But it was.

So now he was riding, much more than an arm's length away, and staring out at blue sky. Blue, the color of Luke. The river that ran right through Bo, cooling the fire that always wanted to bubble up to the surface. Stupid blue sky. The least it could have done was rained.

* * *

"What about you, Luke?"

It had only been a couple days without the constant ruckus that was Bo. Half the noise and twice the amount of leftover food, since they hadn't adjusted their cooking yet.

"Huh?" Cooking wasn't the only thing that hadn't gotten adjusted. Luke was downright slow-witted without Bo to act all superior around.

"What are you gonna do?" Uncle Jesse talking slow, like he was a little kid or something.

"Do? Well, you know, the screens need cleaning…"

"Not today." The old man was too kind to roll his eyes. No, that was Luke's thing. Jesse was just patient, waiting for his nephew's brain to catch up. "Where are you going, what will you do?"

Luke's mind clicking into gear. "I was gonna stay here and take care of the farm." Not quite fool enough to say _and you_. That would only get him lectured.

Incredulous look in Jesse's eyes, and he was going to get the lecture anyway. He really had been slow. It was clear, suddenly, that now that the arduous task of helping Bo out of the nest was done, Luke was supposed to follow.

"Boy, I love you, you know that. And this will always be your home. But I expect you to find yourself something to do, something outside of Hazzard, for awhile. You can come back, but you have to leave first." That same backwoods backwards logic that couldn't be argued with. And this time, it was an order. Luke was such a twit – in all his years of living here, he'd never learned to just take those.

"Jesse, I done left and come back a couple of times before…"

"What a man does before he comes of age don't count. And Luke, you didn't come of age until just recently. You and Bo was just a couple of overgrown kids up 'til now." Nope, no leeway in that face. His uncle was telling the gospel truth.

"Start lookin', Luke. I want you somewheres else before another month's worth of water goes under that old wooden bridge up on the Ridge Road."

Should've seen that coming, Luke old boy. Losing your wits and barely past thirty.


	3. Big Toes Never Lie

_Hey all! Thanks to those who have been reading this story, and special thanks to those who sit a spell and visit with me in the form of a review. _

_As I keep saying, this one's a little different. At first this chapter may feel a little odd, but it's one that moves quickly through time. Once you know that, I think the transitions will be less jarring. Other than that, I won't go into long explanations. When this story gets where it's going -- well, it'll be there. __As Cooter would say, "Man, that's obtuse."_

_I don't own the characters and no harm is meant to those that do. I borrow them for fun, not profit._

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Chapter 3 – Big Toes Never Lie

He always had been too stubborn for his own good. Jesse wanted him somewhere else, and he was going just about as far away as he could. On a Greyhound, with unforgiving seats, a stupid loose suspension and just reeking of exhaust. He should probably offer to fix that. They only had another fifteen hundred or so more miles to go…

Leaving in fall, too, when everything was just so – yellow. Sunshine and foliage and how could he ever leave a home like this? The mountains were already flattening towards hills. He knew that'd change again soon enough, into bigger mountains than he'd ever climbed. It wouldn't matter though. Tiny little hollows and valleys, sunshine and blonde – er – _yellow_ leaves, bow hunting and Bo Duke. All the things it was hurting him to leave behind.

He, too, had declined to take the General. Where he was going, a power car with rear-wheel drive would only be useful maybe six months out of the year. The rest of the time it'd be buried in snow drifts. Yet another reason to be mad at his cousin. Without Bo around, he probably would have gotten himself a more practical car by now.

He should have known that Bo would wind up taller than him. His cousin was nothing if not big, in everything he did. Big and loud and just dang _complete_ about it. Grinning hopelessly on a good day and chin-to-chest sulking on a bad one. Bigger than him? Bo had always been.

And as much as Luke was hating this bus trip, Bo's had been worse. He knew this because at first his cousin had called almost every hour. Told him everything, just like they used to do in their beds (within arm's reach) at night, with that same kind of openness that he'd never learned to hide. Sighed deeply, sniffled a bit, always forgot to ask how Luke was doing (just like the brat to do that). Not that Luke would have told him or anything.

And within a week, Bo began to settle down. Maybe even like it a little. Stupid cousin adjusted and was _fine_ and Luke was on a bus headed for Montana of all places, suffering with a hard seat and a loose suspension (must be coming down with a cold, too, eyes all raw and nose kind of runny).

* * *

Girls. Suddenly it was clear to him: Jesse had sent them away to find girls – women – wives. As long as they were together in Hazzard, they were content to play at dating, a new girl every night, sometimes two if the first one didn't work out. Jesse wanted grandkids (or as close as he was going to get, anyway) and probably figured there must be something wrong with L.D. or Daisy would be pregnant already. (His uncle didn't much care for Daisy's husband either, Luke was sure of it.)

Called Bo at his apartment in Atlanta and told him. _Girls, cousin, that's what Jesse wants for us_. Heard Bo giggle and realized the futility. Could just see that drooling grin spreading across Bo's face, as if they were back in Cooter's Garage and some pretty thing had just strolled into view. That boy would never get it – and where Luke was? There just weren't any available women. Smoke-jumper in the northwestern mountains. Forestry Service. What the hell had he been thinking? Only that the most alive he'd ever felt was in those split seconds of flight right after his feet left the General's hood, and just before they landed on whatever he was jumping to. _Hard-headed fool_, his uncle reminded him from somewhere in the back of his mind.

* * *

When he was racing he was just fine. Hardly ever looked over at the passenger seat for that lopsided grin anymore. And off the track he had friends, too, and they were fun. But they weren't Luke. Or Jesse. Or Daisy.

Daisy. Traveling like he did throughout the southeast, he actually got to see more of her. Poor girl just didn't look happy.

"He treatin' you okay, darlin'?"

"Bo…" she said, half-chastising, not _too smart_ like Luke, just _older than you so quit worrying about me_.

Lines on her face and somehow she wasn't so young anymore. Bo tried to figure out whether this was normal or not, tried to compare his own face to hers, looking for signs that he was aging, too (_a shame to see such a pretty face with lines on it –_ didn't know whether he meant himself or Daisy with that thought) but it was pointless. Thing was, she didn't smile much these days.

"He cheatin' on you?"

"I don't know."

"But you think so." No question in that, they were doing that famous Dukes mind-reading trick again.

"Bo, I know you're just worried about me, but he's my _husband_…" And if husband was more important than cousin. Wished Luke was here to pull that whole older cousin, _and just you listen to me _thing. Wished Luke was here anyway.

* * *

That first Christmas, Luke couldn't make it home, what with being new and in training and all. Training and structure – like the military – somehow worked for that boy, though his old uncle would never understand it. Seemed to be disobedient enough when he lived under Jesse's roof.

Bo and Daisy came, and seeing them made him question every decision he'd made for those kids. His girl couldn't stay long, or wouldn't. Something was wrong at home (Jesse's big toe never lied) and she didn't want to stay long enough to have to open up about it. He could corner her, but she had conflicting loyalties now. She'd only say it was something she had to figure out on her own. And Jesse would have to let her find her own way, as much as he wanted to scoop her into his arms like the little charmer she'd once been. But if he learned that that boy she'd hitched up with wasn't treating her right, he would turn Bo and Luke loose on him without batting an eyelash.

Bo was different, had some time to visit and some money in his pocket. Stayed awhile and more than once Jesse caught him turning to the side, about to drop a sarcastic comment like a cherry bomb, only to find empty air where Luke ought to have been. Turned red (_boy was born red, actually, and screaming his fool lungs out. No need to spank that one. Whereas Luke had come out all quiet and giant blue eyes just daring his midwife-of-an-uncle to force him to breathe_) and mumbled something while shrugging off Jesse's gentle hand.

Made the old man question everything.

But he wasn't going to live forever (J.D. Hogg wouldn't last another year, and he was six months younger than Jesse) and before those kids of his committed to a life of farming this plot of land in Hazzard County, he wanted them to experience other things. Wanted them to _choose_ this life, not just stick with it because they didn't know no different. Wanted to give them something he'd never had – a choice. Not that they'd appreciate it or anything. Jesse had lived long enough to know that choices involved pain. But they shouldn't be like him, looking back and wondering what if –

* * *

Bo was beautiful, just stunning, to watch. For the briefest of moments Luke wondered what it would be like to be riding shotgun right now, knew it was impossible, no room in that roll cage for two, but wondered anyway. Decided, however, that he'd seen enough through the windshield of the General to make this feel quite tame, at least from inside the car. But out here, up here, not in the pit but the stands, it was sheer thrill from start to finish. Never thought he'd enjoy just watching a race quite this much.

Not a bit more maturity in that boy, either. He bounded out of the car like he hadn't been in restraints at all, whipped out of his helmet and looked for Luke, knew he'd be there – they'd only planned this meeting from the time Bo knew that he'd be racing in the west. Las Vegas was quite the drive from Bozeman, but it was as close as the Duke boys were likely to get to each other (from within arm's reach to this – being grateful for a less than one thousand mile separation. How did that happen? First time they'd seen each other in going on a year now – how did _that_ happen?). Sported a completely uninhibited grin as he spotted Luke, ignoring everything that didn't involve finding the fastest route to his cousin. Sweaty body (driving was hard work) against his, arms holding tight and the stupid boy actually kissed his temple. Luke ought to smack him but – oh heck – found himself chuckling and returning the favor, closer to his ear because Bo had outgrown him, and just hoping none of Bo's buddies saw that. They'd never understand the closeness of two men that weren't even (technically) brothers (and just _try _explaining the meaning of being blood brothers to, well, complete strangers).

Went out with Bo's team and had a great time with like-minded men, those who loved speed and danger and a good party. Saw that Bo had a full life now, had adjusted fine and (_just you stop thinking right now, Luke Duke_) didn't need him anymore. Spent more of the night with Bo's friends than either of them planned, and this kept them from really talking, which was probably all right since neither of them was really a dazzling conversationalist. What had they talked about all those years in the General? (_I told you to stop thinking_.)

And if there was a bulb or two out in Bo's usually thousand watt smile, Luke didn't notice or if he did he put it down to his baby of a cousin finally growing up, mellowing a bit.

Too soon he felt Bo's arms grab him in a physical goodbye (what other kind could there be – this was _Bo_, after all), and indulged himself by ruffling those blonde curls, not quite so yellow now that he wasn't out working in the fields.

Turned north in the used pickup that he'd acquired and headed back to Montana, which had turned out to be a beautiful place in June, and a serious fire risk from July through the fall. This would be his first active season and in reality he was looking forward to it. Had adjusted as well as his cousin had. Jutted his chin and swore it was true.

* * *

The next Thanksgiving they were all home, not only to see each other and their uncle, but to pay their respects. Boss Hogg had finally passed on, leaving behind two widows, it seemed. Rosco might not technically have worn the bald man's wedding ring but he appeared to be even more lost than Lulu. And if Flash was looking frail, no one mentioned it, fearing that it might just send the sheriff all the way off the deep end.

So many distractions, from townsfolk to turkeys – and speaking of turkeys, L.D. had joined Daisy on this trip, making any time spent at the farm very tense. But the Duke girl announced her intention to become a Duke girl (as in attending the University) and everyone studiously ignored L.D.'s silence as they congratulated the first member of the clan to ever go on to higher education.

Still, the attention that the boys ought to have paid each other and their kin was lost forever to the momentous (burying the county commissioner and comforting those who had loved him) and the mundane (lumps or no lumps in the potatoes? That one had nearly started an all-out Duke clan brawl).

The General. Had sat unused for more than a year, so when Bo cocked and eyebrow (kinda both, actually) and Luke smirked (that _smarter than you_ look, but it was all right because Bo was about to show him a move or two and figured Luke'd be white knuckled soon enough) no words were necessary. Climbed in the windows and off they went. Felt so good they almost forgot to get home in time for dinner. A trip over the knee for each of them if that happened.

Except, Jesse didn't look like hide-tanning would be such a smart activity for him to undertake. A little pale (need to get back to farming, spend those days outdoors) and peaked, but he just plain glowed with happiness to have his family together, so they didn't think about it too much. Tried not to think about anything.

Luke had a flight (more money in the family now than there ever had been, enough to fix up the old farmhouse. The boys had offered, and Jesse promised to think about it) to catch and Daisy had a long drive. Bo's trip would be the shortest, in fact, after dropping Luke off (silent hug in the terminal – _Don't go_ a thought, but not words) he only had about six miles left. Almost home and then The Eagles were on the radio: _Take it Easy_. Remembered, suddenly, an era when time spent with Luke was such an ample thing that they spent a lot of it singing, was thinking this and couldn't see well, then suddenly felt the familiar vertigo of the car rolling. Stunned, still strapped in, no idea how he got to be on his roof instead of his tires. Walked away with bruises, Duke luck (sometimes bad, but when it came to car accidents, always good - they never got hurt) still intact.

Didn't even bother to tell his family. Used to be they rolled a car at least once a year, sometimes on purpose (_Roll it over, but don't kill us!_ Yet another one of those orders that Bo wouldn't have taken from anyone but Luke). No need to worry his family about something so trivial as a wrecked car. It wasn't as if they'd never seen one.

* * *

Phone ringing at eleven at night, had to be Luke. For all those smarts, his cousin never had learned to think about the time difference. As if whenever he wanted to talk, Bo should just be there. Not that eleven was actually late, but no one else would call at that hour.

"What?" he answered the phone, not bothering with pleasantries. Hated that Luke assumed he'd just be there, hated that he was. Wiped across his sweaty brow, because it was one of those sneaky spring days in the deep south where the heat didn't seem to know that it was supposed to let up long enough to allow a body to get some sleep.

"Bo." Cluelessness in that tone. Not seeming to know how insulting it was that he'd just assumed Bo would have nothing better to do than – "Uncle Jesse wants us home."

"Wants us…" Fear dawning into his tone.

"I don't know why, cuz. He ain't said. But he wants us home, soon as we can make it. Can you pick me up at the airport? My flight gets in at eight o'clock tomorrow mornin', your time." Proving that Luke did, in fact, know that there was such a thing as a time zone.


	4. Squabbling Like Chickens

_Hi, y'all - thanks to everyone who has been reading this one, and special thanks to those who review. I know the boys are rougher in this one, especially with each other. Don't worry, they won't stay that way forever. They're stubborn, but they love each other..._

_I don't own the Dukes or any of the main characters, and I don't mean any harm to those that do. I earn no money for what I post here._

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Chapter 4 – Squabbling Like Chickens

In all the fights between the boys (and there really had been very few) Luke had never swung first. But right now he was tempted.

_Why_, that childish voice that still lived in his head complained, _does everyone always yell at me? Even when I didn't do nothin'._ It was like a given. When all hell breaks loose we can all yell and snarl and snap at Luke, and he will stay calm. Even Jesse (especially Jesse) was known to do it. _Count ten, close your eyes and count ten_.

Shoot, Bo couldn't even give him ten seconds to breathe.

"Why didn't he say something? He had to have been able to tell that something was wrong."

"How am I supposed to know?" Patience cracking.

"I coulda come home more, or gotten him some hands to help out here, at least. Why didn't he ask?"

"Damn it…" Cracking –

"We's family, Luke! Why…"

"Bo!" Cracked.

Tense moments, breathing and staring. Bright flash of daylight and then Daisy suddenly joining them in the barn, her face all full of that look she'd worn ever since L.D. walked out on her a few months before. Not broken-hearted, more like I'm-keeping-it all-together-with-rubber-bands-and-duct-tape-so-don't-mess-with-me-or-I-might-just-deck-you. One hundred percent Daisy. A hand on each of their shoulders, soothing even as her words cut into them.

"Our Uncle Jesse is in there asking for his boys, the two people he loves more than anyone else in the world, and you're out here squabbling like a pair of chickens over a kernel of half-rotten corn? You just pull yourselves together and get back in there!" Hands on their shoulders pushing them in the general direction of the house now.

"She's _your_ cousin," Bo grumbled.

"Not mine," Luke answered, tiniest little smirk on his lips.

* * *

"I_ ain't_ dying." A lot of force behind those words.

"Now, Uncle Jesse, just take it easy…"

"Don't you tell me to take it easy, boy, or I'll take you over my knee." As if that knee was not under blankets, prone in the bed like the rest of him, looking far more fragile and small than his kids wanted to see. The desire to bolt back to the safety of the barn and fight with Luke some more rose up in Bo, feeling almost like the greasy breakfast he'd had while waiting for his cousin's flight in the airport – bacon and eggs fried within an inch of their lives – and he was pretty sure it would be making a return appearance any second now.

"It was a minor heart attack, it weren't nothing serious. And if I'da known you boys was going to act like such jackasses, I wouldn'ta called you here."

"Yes, sir." _Eyes down, look at how that rug is unraveling. Need a new one in here. Why did I never worry about these things before?_

"Sit." Scrambling for chairs, because even if that knee was under blankets, Jesse's voice seemed to indicate that it was just as ready as it had ever been to support a bent over boy, all red-faced and dreading the hand that was about to land in exactly the most painful spot.

"Now, like I was sayin' before the two of you suddenly needed to do some chores…" eyes pinning them in place, daring them to so much as move one lip, even if he _had _laid hard on the word chores, even if he had all but accused them of slinking out like a couple of cowards. "It was just a minor heart attack. So minor that I'm recuperating right here at home. I ain't dying." Staying quiet now, long enough to make sure both boys' heads came up, meeting each of their eyes. Bo, biting his lip, looking every bit like the whipped pup he used to be as a kid, right after his uncle lit into him for some infraction. But something else in the dark blue, too, a different fear. Luke… stubborn as ever.

"But I am slowin' down. I ain't gonna run this place as a farm no more. So it's up to you boys. If'n you want, the land is yours. If not, well, you boys is free to do what you want with your lives."

* * *

Those choices Jesse had wanted to give his kids began to poke and push at them. Daisy had it easy, in a way. Her uncle had made it clear that he expected her to complete college before even considering a return to Hazzard. Of course she'd argued that coming home and taking care of him was more important, and of course he'd told her that he would allow no such thing. The argument had been quick, quiet and decisive. Daisy was on her way back to North Carolina.

And the boys were on the porch, Bo on the old swing, now too small for his long legs (how many times had his uncle swung with him here, teaching him how to properly use a pocket knife – _cut away from yourself, son _– or how to properly become a man?) and Luke leaning against the railing. No words for awhile, picking at the peeling paint that never did seem to want to stick to the house. Bo's eyes came off the floorboards, finally, seeking out Luke's.

"He ain't that old."

Luke wanted to laugh, because anyone else Jesse's age, Bo would call an old man. But their Uncle Jesse was still immortal to his youngest boy. And, if Luke was honest, his oldest, too.

"He's old enough, I guess. He ain't gonna die tomorrow, Bo." Meant it to be comforting, but somehow it came out with that same old tone, implying that Bo might not have matured past the age of three.

"I know that, Luke!" he snapped, but couldn't stay angry, not when he needed his cousin so badly right now. And he could see something vaguely like an apology in the way Luke shifted his weight, unfolded his arms from across his chest.

Bo waved a hand through the air, forgiving. "I know that, Luke." Much quieter that time. Luke's weight was still shifting, then he was standing and not even tucking in the hem of his shirt and that was downright weird, because Luke was plumb predictable when it came to shirt-tucking – this was Bo's last thought as he found his feet and leaned into his cousin. Hated, sometimes, that he had grown taller than Luke, because it had always been easier to let the older one comfort him when his head only came up to Luke's shoulder, but just like he always did, Bo found that angle, that way they fit together, and just held on. "Welcome home, cuz."

Felt a chuckle in response to that, because they had been home two days now, but ridiculously, this hadn't happened yet. Met at the airport, consumed by that frantic frustration of waiting for Luke's bags, finally hustled to the car and straight home to Jesse. From then on they'd pushed and shoved against each other because it was easier than admitting –

"He ain't gonna live forever though."

Stupid cousin, so honest and –

"Hush, Luke."

A nod, realizing the idiocy of his timing. Spoke into Bo's shoulder. "Welcome home."

* * *

"You should stay on the circuit, Bo." He meant it to be a generous offer, but there was no recognition of that in Bo's angry glare.

"We ain't kids no more. Quit tellin' me what to do." Growled, but Luke could hear the underlying tone that he remembered from those days when Bo had short little legs and an even shorter temper and just plain didn't want to be cooperative. _How come we always have to do what you want to do, Luke? _As if Luke hadn't played Bo's dumb games a thousand times.

And Luke was tired of Bo always taking everything that way, always the victim of his older cousin's bossiness. He was tired of being at the receiving end of everyone's frustration and tired of being asked for his opinion when it was only going to be rejected anyway. He was tired, just tired.

"Fine, do what you want, Bo." Simply walked away to their old bedroom; maybe a nap would help.

Bo always hated when Luke left him sitting there like that. But he wasn't going to chase after him. Nope, they weren't kids.

* * *

"You know better than that, Bo Duke." Luke's voice was quiet and low, a warning.

And the thing was, Bo did know better. Knew that Luke wasn't trying to take anything away from him. That boy would share everything, even give Bo slightly more than his half, because he was Luke's baby cousin.

But then again, he didn't know better. Luke would give Bo everything, but it was _giving_, and that didn't take into account the fact that Luke didn't own it in the first place, so letting Bo have his share wasn't exactly a gracious gesture on Luke's part.

He hadn't meant to accuse his cousin of sending him back to the circuit just so Luke could take over the farm without him, but now he had, and he wasn't sure he wanted to take the words back. Stared hard at Luke and tried to make up his mind.

Luke staring back at him, just the slightest flicker of hurt in the anger. _You used to trust to me, cuz. I could tell you to jump the car right at Rosco, practically land it in his lap, and you'd trust that I had a plan behind it. Back in the days when we were close, never more than arm's _-

"Dang it, Luke…" Suspended in that moment, while his cousin waited to see what he'd say. Words, dang it, Luke was waiting for words and Bo didn't have any. Leastwise, none that would make any of this better. Should he give in to his cousin one more time (and it would be the last, because if he did this, there'd never be anything to negotiate between them again) or argue until they came to blows?

Walked away, leaving Luke at the kitchen table, hurt still haunting the blue of his irises.

* * *

Jesse was up more, now, walking around the house some. Doc Applebee was stopping by less frequently, too. Hated to see his old friend Jesse laid low, and hated even more acquiescing to the man's wishes, back when he'd been in the hospital. _No need to call the family now, Amos. I'll call as soon as you let me go home_. Hated to see Bo and Luke home for this reason, but loved seeing them home at all. And the old doc really hoped they'd stay. Hazzard needed these Dukes.

But mostly the doctor left Jesse alone with his boys. It really had been a very mild myocardial infarction, and he thought that Jesse spending time with his nephews was probably better for the old man than any amount of medicine the doc could dispense.

Jesse was moving around more, but slowly and quietly, not the big bear of a man his nephews were accustomed to; more of a housecat, quiet and intense, and yet entirely capable of pouncing –

Found his boys in the kitchen, arguing quietly.

Stalk. "What do you want me to _say_, Bo? No matter what I do it ain't the right thing."

Stalk. "Quit sayin' anything. Always talkin', never listenin', that's you, Luke."

Stalk. "Huh. If that ain't the pot callin' the kettle black!"

Stalk. "Now, you wait just a dang minute…" Chairs scraping as boys were getting to their feet.

POUNCE. "You fools!" Their uncle roared from the kitchen doorway. "Go home. Just go back to Atlanta and Bozeman, and get…"

"Uncle Jesse, take it easy!" Both boys speaking calming words to him while looking heatedly at each other. _See what you made him do_ passing between them loud enough to be heard in Chickasaw, though neither boy's lips moved. Four hands on his back and arms, attempting to usher him into a chair.

"Stop it!" Jesse roared, sounding just as fierce as he had the day they had first come to the farm. He did take a seat though. A whole lot of effort to stay calm, and sitting seemed like a good idea. "And sit down."

Sheepish boys slinking back to chairs, and wasn't that just great. Two fully-grown men threatening to punch each other's lights out as if they were teenagers again. At least back then their uncle could blame it on the hormones. Now they really were just dang fools.

"I didn't get to choose the time that this would happen. If it was up to me, I woulda waited a couple more years." Could almost feel the accusation that neither of his boys would dare to say out loud – how can you leave us, Uncle Jesse? "But when it did happen, I thought it would be okay. '_Them boys is grown up_,' I said to myself. '_They can handle this_.'"

Bo always had been the louder of his two fools. "Uncle Jesse, we _can_…"

"You call this handling it?" he interrupted, looking from one to the other, slowly. Eyes dropping to the table in front of them, two heads shook.

"Go home. You got time yet. Go home and think about it awhile. I promise, I ain't dying, not yet."

It was a promise from Jesse Duke, after all. It was safe for them to go home, except –

"One of us has to stay and take care of you, Jesse." And Luke had always been his worrying fool.

"No, you ain't. Emma Tisdale's just been chomping at the bit to help me out here. And I'm ready to let her do it."

"Uncle Jesse…" Skepticism at that because no Duke man had ever –

"I said I'm ready. Emma's been workin' her way into my heart for a long time now." Still with the hesitant glances, his boys. _Quit looking at me that way, I know what I am doing_. "Just you boys worry about your own love lives!" Followed that with a satisfied smile. Knew that neither of his boys had a love life to speak of. A date here and there, yes. Love life? No.

"But she's as old as you are, Uncle Jesse. How's she gonna…"

Daggers. Sharp and lethal daggers, he hoped, were coming out of his eyes. And, while he was at it, hoped his beard was full enough to hide the fact that he was biting his lip – hard – to avoid smiling.

"Enough," he said, voice echoing off the cabinets and appliances, and if his eyes hadn't made the point his tone sure did. "Now, I'm gonna close my eyes and count to three. And when I get there, I want two boys kneeling right here in front of me where I can hug you both. One…" heard denim rustling. "Two," the thud of a knee on the old hardwood floor. "Three." Didn't bother to open his eyes, just reached out for the warm bodies he knew would be there, felt them respond with an arm apiece around his neck. He loved his fools. And – squinting open a single eye to confirm, yep, one of Luke's arms around Bo's waist and Bo's slung across Luke's back – they loved each other.


	5. Two Peas in a Bright Orange Pod

_Hey all! Thanks to those who have been hanging in on this one, and double thanks to those who review. _

_Them boys, they are tough nuts. But, well, I promise they'll crack eventually. Even if they have to knock their skulls together again._

_I don't own them, and I mean no harm to those who do. I earn nothing for what I post here._

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**Chapter 5 – Two Peas in a (Bright Orange) Pod**

Going home turned out to be easier than it ought to have been. _Home. How could Jesse send me here, and call this home? As if the farm was not my home… _But those were plane thoughts, the kind of thing that made perfect sense when cruising at thirty thousand feet between here and where you were going. On the ground Luke had a used pickup, a rented cabin, a job where people were counting on him; exactly the kind of things that could confuse him into believing this was where he was meant to be.

He'd been practicing ever since he'd hit puberty to be the Duke patriarch. Never a doubt in his mind about the rightness of that. And then there was Bo, the only one who could make him doubt everything. Making him wonder whether the farm was maybe Bo's birthright. Because his cousin never really had a strong desire to stray too far. And Luke, as much as he expected to take over some day, had also thought about leaving.

But Bo had only wanted to be on the NASCAR circuit since he was old enough to understand that the pedal on the right made the car go (_never really figured out the purpose of that pedal just to its left, did you, cuz?_), and Luke thought he ought to get every minute of enjoyment out of being on the circuit that he could. After that he could retire and come home to his part of the farm. Why was that brat so impossible anyway? Luke just wanted to take care of him, like he always had.

And there was no solution to this problem, not until Bo stopped being so dang stubborn and just plain _wrong_ about this. So Luke jumped (literally) back into work and tried not to think about the health of the man who had raised him. Called Jesse weekly, but studiously avoided the question.

What was he supposed to say, anyway? _So, do you think you'll be dying anytime soon, Uncle Jesse? _Shook these thoughts from his head and worked at slipping back into his life here in Montana.

* * *

Bo technically lived close enough to check on Jesse, at least when he wasn't traveling. And at first he did so, and frequently, but the old man was stubborn. Insisted that he was fine and even if he wasn't Bo shouldn't come home so often until he and Luke had worked things out.

As if such a thing was possible when dealing with a mule like his cousin. His cousin, who could just go back to Montana and forget in an instant that they had ever been close, that they had shared a room for something like twenty-five years. Could forget the hours spent creating forts from discarded planks in the woods near home, or fishing trips that lasted for days. Somehow, could walk away from the cousin that always looked up to him (_of course he can, Bo. He ain't never needed you like you needed him_).

Needed. Well, that was a different thing all together. No doubt in Bo's mind that if something went wrong, as big as an accident on the track or as small as needing to borrow a few bucks, Luke would be there for him. Felt, simply, like it should take a lot less than a problem to bring Luke back into his life. Like maybe his cousin ought to miss him or something.

Doing really fast laps around a track helped, but didn't take the sting out of that thought. Somehow, Luke didn't mind the loss of all the things that Bo did.

Well, fine. The Duke cousins had always been two peas in a (bright orange) pod, so if Luke could manage not to be nostalgic about their childhood, so could he.

* * *

There was no doubt in Luke's mind that these things were easier for Bo. When he was happy, he yelled, and when he was angry he hollered and no matter what it was, it just came flying straight out of Bo's mouth without wasting any time in his brain. Whereas with Luke it languished and festered as he turned it over in his head, looking from every angle to try to find the light of day at the other end. And that overgrown kid of a cousin of his was content to let Luke do all that turning and looking and thinking while he just drove happy laps around some track somewhere.

What did Bo want? All he was trying to do was let his cousin enjoy that chance of a lifetime to do what he loved, what he was really _good_ at, before taking on the responsibilities of a farm. Turned the idea over in his head so many times he was getting seasick, and he still couldn't spot the answer.

So he took a couple of days and went to the salt flats of Utah, knowing it was a place where speed limits were not enforced. Figured it was the closest he would get to the release of driving his frustrations away, just like he imagined Bo was doing, just like the two of them had always done back when frustration consisted of something as stupid as a fake radar detector and Boss Hogg's claim that the boys had destroyed it.

White nothingness all around him, hot, no clear border between land and sky, and Luke was pushing the pickup for all it was worth. It wasn't the General, but without Rosco on his tail that didn't matter.

Without Rosco on his tail…

Without Bo there goading him, telling him that he was slower than a three legged turtle…

Without any hills or trees or anything that felt real… Just egg-shell cracks in the bright, hard ground all around him.

Without a reason to do anything at all, Luke stopped doing anything at all. Sat there in the middle of a salt desert, staring at nothing, pickup still running, but not moving an inch. Looked for an answer in all that white. Thought he saw it for a split second, but it melted skyward like the mirage it had been.

Sat there too long, because while the highway was within reasonable distance, the nearest gas station was not. And when Luke realized his mistake, he took himself as far as he could, then was reduced to waiting for any help that might come along on the nearly desolate Interstate 80.

Utah wasn't Hazzard.

* * *

Should have waited until he could make the trip east to have this conversation. It was not going well, not with Bo misconstruing his every word.

They called each other often enough, but the telephone had never been their friend. Somehow Bo always seemed already annoyed when he answered the phone, even when he had tried to reach Luke first, leaving a message on the older man's answering machine, a gadget so cheap it didn't even contain Luke's voice, just a pre-recorded, generic greeting. He didn't blame his younger cousin for hating the machine; he hated it too. Never needed such a thing in Hazzard. Between the telephone, personal visits, and the CB, all communication needs were taken care of. No impersonal machines to talk to there.

Time zones. Bo was always muttering about those. But it wasn't Luke's fault that he was two hours behind Bo (or was it? Who said he had to go so far away from his cousin in the first place?).

Spending that one surprisingly cold night in the salt desert while waiting for help from a stranger just to get his pickup rolling again had made Luke rethink things. A lot of things. Like how he could take care of himself (no doubt about it) in any situation. How darkness didn't scare him (didn't, actually, but the fact that he could disappear into it without a trace didn't exactly thrill him) but he still wasn't sure he should trust anyone that stopped to help him. Not like Hazzard, where he knew friends and neighbors wouldn't let any harm come to him. Not like Hazzard, where he'd always had family around, and where the situation would never arise that he was out of gas, on a highway, and alone, not when his youngest cousin was always within arm's reach. And with Bo at his side, he could face down whatever came by way of danger - from a rattlesnake to a gun.

Thoughts of just who might be traveling through the desert in the middle of the night made him decide not to signal for help until morning, figuring that in the day he could judge whoever it was that stopped, and determine his relative safety. At least in the light he could see potential trouble coming.

So he sat in his darkened vehicle and waited, not sleeping. Trying not to think too hard, but that was like telling Rosco not to get excited during a chase. Thinking, of course, about Bo. Wondering what Bo wanted, getting angry, frustrated, annoyed, then realizing something –

"Bo, what do you want?" Words that he had never said to his cousin before. Always assumed he knew the answer without having to ask (actually did used to know, but now he had to admit that he didn't).

Sat in the complete darkness of his pickup, staring into desert that he knew must be out there somewhere, and realized that he'd never asked exactly that question, so now he was saying the words into the telephone.

Words that his cousin clearly didn't understand to be genuine. _Why should he? Most everything you've ever said to him has been sarcastic_. Not that Bo was exactly innocent when it came to that, either.

Should have been patient, but Bo would never allow that. Knew exactly how to keep peace from being a possibility.

"_What does it matter what I want, Luke? What I want ain't never affected what you do, anyways."_

And that just wasn't fair. If there was anything he _had_ done, it was to adapt around his younger cousin's needs, around what he assumed Bo wanted. He might never have asked, but it didn't mean he had been selfish.

And there went his Duke pride, asserting itself full force. Not even the slightest trace of civility in his tone, but definitely his own voice, saying, "You know, you could just trust me. The world would probably manage to keep on spinning if you did." _Congratulations, Luke, you've finally learned the fine art of saying things without thinking. Bo ought to be proud of you_.

But, of course, he was not. Bo was too busy slamming the phone down in Luke's ear to be anything close to proud. And, in truth, Luke didn't blame him one bit. Mentally smacking his own forehead, he just put the useless piece of plastic, the thing that had been a link to his cousin only seconds before, back into its cradle. Didn't even try to call Bo back, because he didn't exactly want to talk to a dang answering machine, either. Just said a silent prayer that Bo wouldn't kill himself out there, literally driving the pain away at a speed that Luke knew would be well over a hundred miles per hour.

Figured he should probably give his cousin a good month to cool off.

* * *

He was tired after a grueling few days in the Rockies, fighting alongside brothers just like he had all those years ago, in different terrain, against a different enemy. Exhausted, but they had won, and unlike all those years ago, Luke knew he could go home to safety and complete rest. Which he'd need, because there was always another fire about to start. The whole mountain west was a tinderbox this fall.

Eyes swollen from smoke and a lack of sleep, Luke parked his truck and stumbled towards the cabin, looking neither right nor left, nor even, really, forward. Autopilot had always been his saving grace.

Almost tripped over the man sitting on the tiny porch of his rented home, and that was a lot of man to trip over. Would have hurt plenty, if Bo hadn't put out his hands, half in self-defense, half to catch his clearly sleep-deprived cousin. It was likely the weirdest hug the two had ever shared, but they weren't complaining, for a change. Instead, they were trying to figure out the least painful angle from which to do this, bodies shifting position, passing through Luke kneeling on the step below Bo (which was by necessity only the most temporary of positions, as it allowed Bo to tower over him in an unacceptable way), and finally resolving with them both twisting, sliding across one another and otherwise fumbling until they sat side-by-side on the bottom step, legs bent at awkward angles, since they were much too tall to be this close to the ground. Snicker in Luke's shoulder, prompting –

"What?" A growl, because he knew that Bo was about to come out with something snide. After all, Luke would have done the same if he hadn't been so dang tired.

"You're gettin' old, cuz. We used to be able to switch places while the General was in motion, and now you can't even walk up the stairs straight."

Finally letting go of his cousin with one arm, Luke ran a hand down his own face. So many comebacks presented themselves, but he didn't have the energy to do more than snort.

"You didn't tell me you had a race out here, Bo." Came out kind of grumpily and that wasn't what he wanted, but then again, he was somewhat miffed that Bo hadn't said anything about coming west.

Bo also released one hand from around Luke's shoulders, but kept the other one there, steadying almost more than being affectionate right now. Apparently his cousin had just enough reserves to drive himself home and make it to bed. This conversation had not been part of his – as always – split second timing.

"I don't." A simple statement, requiring no explanation greater than a small shrug of the shoulders, he felt. Apparently Luke disagreed.

"Then what're you doing here?"

_Ain't I welcome?_ A thought, but he didn't ask, showing more restraint than he normally would. No point in arguing with his grouchy cousin right now, and he knew it. Knew Luke's moods almost better than his own.

"I'm here to make sure you make it safely to your bed, Luke." Got a quizzical expression for that one, a minor victory. Bo had always been particularly fond of those moments when he could out-think his oh-so-smart cousin. "Come on," he grunted, hoisting them both upward, "We'll talk later."

Too sleepy to fight him, Luke let Bo lead him inside, saw his cousin figuring out the rooms as he went. _He ain't ever even seen where I live_ was his last conscious thought.


	6. Miss You Enough to Put Up With You

_Hey, y'all - thanks for reading and special thanks to those who review. _

_It's yet another bad time at work for me, so I'm sort of scarce out here myself - sorry about that. It'll get worse, but then it'll get better._

_I don't own the Dukes, and let's face it, this time I had about as little control over this as I do over any given episode (and how many times have you wanted to tell smack Bo upside his head and tell him that Diane is obviously using him, or wished you could grab Luke by the arms and forcefully suggest to him that drinking the pond water is a very bad idea?). I earn no money and mean no harm. And on a good day, I beat all you ever saw and been in trouble with the law since the day I was born._

_It's okay, I'm done now..._

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Chapter 6 – Miss You Enough to Put Up With You

Bo could hear the telltale shuffling followed by the bathroom door closing. Luke was up already. Just like his cousin to come home all exhausted like that and yet not be able to get more than a few hours of rest. Luke's internal sleep-clock had been broken long ago, on the other side of the world. And fifteen years of civilian life hadn't fixed it.

But the short time had been enough for Bo to orient himself to his cousin's small abode. Without really trying, he'd been able to locate anything he wanted in the kitchen. _You keep it just like Uncle Jesse's, too, huh cuz? Cups in the left cupboard, plates in the right…_

By the time Luke yawned his way into the kitchen, Bo had poured him a cup of coffee.

"I see you made yourself right at home." Luke almost smacked himself for that, because sarcasm was the perfect tool when he and his cousin were getting along. It just never seemed to help when they were at odds.

But Bo was oblivious. Would have had a harder time responding if his cousin had actually been nice.

"Ain't much to make myself at home with. All them years Daisy spent tryin' to teach us how to shop for groceries was wasted on you."

Even a few hours of sleep were apparently enough to replenish Luke's healthy repository of brilliant comebacks. "I suppose you got gourmet foods at your place? Bo – you own even one spatula?" Finger scratching at the back of his neck, smile of superiority in his eyes despite the innocence of the rest of his face.

Got a silly little grin in response, because this wasn't a real competition. "Nope. But neither do you."

"Ah…" Luke answered, digging through a rather mildewed pile of dishes in his sink. "Ha!" he finished, yanking out the utensil, and accidentally splattering some manner of goo across the front of Bo's shirt.

"You, uh," looking down at his own chest with a grimace. "You win, Luke."

"Come on," Luke chuckled, with a gentle slap to his cousin's shoulder. "Get that shirt off. Daisy done taught me how to do laundry, too."

* * *

September in Montana was a lot cooler than what Bo had left behind in the southeast. Not unpleasant, but something of a shock to his system, to sit out on the rugged piece of land where Luke's cabin was situated, and feel a cool breeze across his face. He hadn't thought to pack any warm clothes, but it wouldn't matter a bit. What was Luke's was his, and he knew it.

Looked at his cousin with a shake of his head. "You really must have been out of it, Luke. Ain't no way to come up that hill and not see that rental sedan next to the tree there." Bo hadn't parked in Luke's usual spot, obviously, but he hadn't exactly hidden the car in the bushes, either. He'd lost most of his moonshiner instincts by now.

A shake of his head and (_do I see a strand or two of gray in that hair, cousin?_) Luke explained, "I's just on my last legs is all. You stay until the job's done, and you don't get much rest. Kinda like harvest."

Bo's disagreement was silent, and unusually subtle, just a slight wobble of his head. Might have been shaking the hair out of his eyes, except he was wearing it a little shorter these days. _Not quite, cuz. You don't drive on public roads when you're that tired from harvesting_. But he was smart enough not to say it, at least not right now. As much as Luke loved to tell Bo what to do, he didn't exactly take advice well himself. No, he'd have to make that point another way, somehow. Wished he could offer to bring his cousin home after a grueling job, but… this wasn't Hazzard.

"What're you really doing here?" Luke finally got around to asking, squinting as he turned from the relatively dark mountains to the north and looked back towards his cousin, and the sun.

For all of his so-smart attitude, Luke was sometimes just dang slow.

"We got stuff to figure out." That, and a shrug, about covered it.

Apparently Luke agreed, because he nodded. Finding himself a seat on a stone not too far from the one that Bo sat on, he squinted at his cousin again.

"We don't gotta do it now." Backtracking, because Bo really wasn't sure this trip had been a good idea after all. It was impulse that made him come here, the thought that if he and Luke could only be within arm's reach again… "You still ain't had much sleep."

A wave of Luke's hand and the notion was dismissed. Should have known better than to suggest that his cousin didn't have endurance. At least it looked like Luke would take the lead.

"Bo, I…" Some lead. Shook his head and stood again. Bo was about to put him out of his misery, when he opened his mouth. "I really mean it when I ask you what you want. I ain't givin' you a hard time, just askin' is all." And such a tremendous effort had left Luke a slightly pinker version of himself. His cousin really was an easy mark, Bo suddenly realized. Just ask him to say something that wasn't sarcastic, and it completely wore him out.

Then again, the younger man had spent his whole life (_not fair to say that, not really_) just trying to get Luke to take him seriously. For every one thing that Bo knew, his irritating cousin always knew two more. Wasn't exactly shy about pointing out just how smart he was, either (_but he was a good cousin anyway, never complained about half the things he should have…_). So it just made sense that Bo always wanted to deck him. Except the first time Luke made a point of asking him how he really felt, didn't assume, but asked, Bo had acted like an overgrown kid. _How was I supposed to know he was really asking?_ A sulking thought that almost instantly crumbled into a painful one. _Why should I have assumed he wasn't_? But, well, here he was with a second chance to get it right. Luke was asking him again.

"What do I want? I want…" and found that the sentence couldn't be finished, not without difficulty. It was easier to fight with Luke than to answer the question. He supposed he owed his cousin an apology for that, taking the easy way out all the time. But he couldn't say he was sorry, because he was about to do it again. "I don't know, what do you want?"

Both of them chose to ignore the heated sound to that, at least for now.

"I want… to do the right thing," Luke said with a sharp nod that almost dared his cousin to challenge the wisdom in that. And was rewarded with a snort.

"That ain't an answer, cuz."

The temptation to remind Bo that he had not exactly answered the question either was very strong, but wouldn't get them anywhere. Instead, Luke sat back down.

"It is, though. I'm good at what I do here, and my team, well, they count on me, Bo. And what we do is important. So, that's one right thing. But goin' home, takin' care of the farm, that's also right. I just have to choose between two right things, is all." _Is all_, as if it was just a small thing. _Just the future direction of my life, cuz. No big deal_.

How could Bo understand, if Luke couldn't explain it? But he should have known better. Bo didn't need perfect words.

"Kinda like me." Bo mistook Luke's surprised look for skepticism. "Well, it's different. I guess fightin' fires is more important. But I like drivin' you know?"

Half smile across Luke's face and _lord _Bo had missed that. "No kiddin'."

"Funny. Anyways, I like drivin', but I want to go home, too."

Home, that word again. Hard to know exactly what it meant anymore. Resuming the natural rhythm of their lives together, Bo interrupted Luke's thoughts.

"One thing, though." Bo was looking at the horizon, not Luke. "I don't like the circuit as much as I used to." Didn't want to say this next part, but he'd always been honest with Luke. So he turned towards his cousin and said it. "Not without you."

A chuckle was not at all what Bo wanted in response to that, but it was what he got.

"Oh, _fine_, Luke."

"Aw, Bo."

Right, that made it forgivable, then. "Never mind," Bo said, turning away almost, but not quite, before Luke could see the hurt mingling with anger on his face.

And then, quietly, "Come on, Bo." Like he was just too tired to fight. "I'm sorry. It's just, when you're driving, it don't matter who your pit crew chief is. You're just beautiful," flushed slightly at the word and was glad Bo was still looking away. There just wasn't a better word, or he would have used it. "You know?"

Bo's voice was no happier. "I guess. I just," stopped for a second here, worried about what his cousin would say. Luke was nothing if not sarcastic, and Bo didn't want to be laughed at any more. But – he'd always trusted his cousin. And if he was ever going to get what he really wanted, he would have to trust him again. "I miss you Luke. And I guess I just hoped that you might have missed me, too."

Again, that stupid chuckle. Bo ought to teach his cousin a lesson, and right quick, about laughing at him like that. Turned towards the man, ready to pin him to the ground and saw Luke's hands up in surrender, even before he could lunge.

"Bo," still that mirth in his voice, and Bo was starting not to care that Luke was probably too tired to hit him back. "Of course I miss you. You don't spend years doing everything together like that and then just walk off without… missing someone." Though until now he'd managed to think that somehow Bo had done just that – _outgrown_ him or something, not just no longer needing him, but not even wanting him around.

Cool breeze, made Luke's tired body shiver, and Bo was just wondering whether they ought to go back inside. But no, Luke's mouth was opening again –

"It's just…" Oh it was always_ just_ something or other. Should have yanked Luke inside after he'd said that (semi-)nice thing, distracted him before he could give Bo some dissertation about what it _just_ was. "Is that enough?"

Enough? _It's only everything, cuz_…

"Enough?" Did he say that out loud? And did it sound every bit like he was thirteen and his voice was changing again? Apparently the answer to both questions was yes, judging by the half-confused, half-amused look on his cousin's face. Starting to turn into that smirk that was smarter than Bo.

And now his chest was puffing, he could feel it, and his chin was coming up…

"Easy, Bo." Hated that Luke could read him like that, but at least the offending smirk was gone, replaced by Luke's calm-face. That was annoying in its own way, mostly in that it usually worked, and it was going to this time, too. It was a good dang thing that he wanted to work things out with Luke. Otherwise his cousin would be hitting the ground pretty hard right about now.

"We ain't kids no more." And wasn't that just news. Like they hadn't had this discussion years ago. But he obviously didn't need to inform Luke of that, since he could see his cousin wincing and shaking his head at his own words. "Maybe it's better to miss each other than to… fight all the time."

Luke had never been eloquent about these things. But he was blunt as ever. And Bo wanted to argue against the notion that they would fight all the time, but had actually managed to learn how to control his tongue – some of the time. He didn't need Luke smirking at him again.

"Why did we start fighting in the first place?" Bo moaned. He'd meant it to sound more adult than that, but he was too busy hating this conversation because it really ought to have been easier than this.

"Oh, Bo, we always disagreed about things. When we was young, we just decided not to let it bother us. Maybe it was even good for us, back then. Kept us on our toes. But after awhile it – caught up to us, I guess."

"I know, we ain't kids no more." At least when Luke smiled this time, it was because Bo wanted him to. "Yeah, I think I miss you enough to put up with you being such a jerk all the time," Bo said, with finality.

Well, with a flattering endorsement like that what else could Luke say? "Thanks, Bo."

* * *

And if it was as simple as that they would have left everything and gotten on a plane. But it wasn't and they both knew it. Saying they could walk away from the independent lives they'd been building and right back into each other's faces and actually doing it were two very different things.

They spent the few days that Bo had allotted for his visit to Montana hiking the woods near Luke's cabin, not hunting, but as close as they could get on this trip. And as they rested at the top of a steep mound, Luke picked up the conversation that had wound its way through everything they did.

"You know if you leave the circuit again, you won't be able to go back. Teams get tired of drivers that drop out. We got away with it once, but if you leave again, you better mean it." Searched his cousin's face for some proof that he was ready to walk away for good and not be sorry later. Didn't find it.

"I know that, Luke. Don't think I ain't thought about it."

"But you ain't come up with any answers." Not a question at all.

"Not yet."

"Take your time." Nothing would make them fight harder than Bo giving up something he wasn't done with.

* * *

They called Daisy, because they just knew she'd wring their necks if she learned they'd gotten together and not found the time to talk to her. Hoped, in fact, that she wouldn't give them a hard time for not having invited her to join them (_I didn't even invite Bo_). It wouldn't even have occurred to them to talk her one at a time, not two boys who'd shared one CB handle for all those years. As always, the Lost Sheep put their heads together with the phone between them and made it a three way conversation.

"_I done served L.D. with divorce papers_." Matter of fact, the way she said that.

"Aw, sweetheart, I'm sorry." Couldn't quite tell who said that. Probably both of them. Definitely both of them were feeling guilty that they weren't there for her, that she wasn't within arm's reach. And definitely, she wasn't going to tolerate that.

"_Nothin' to be sorry for. It was time. Besides, now I'm free to keep goin' to school_." Yep, that was Daisy. Positive attitude about even the worst of things. _"I'm gonna major in ecology."_

And that challenge was in Luke's eyes again, that smirking superiority. _Do you even know what ecology is, Bo?_ written everywhere across his features. _Yeah, I do, but I'm just really glad you can't ask me right now because I actually sorta do and sorta don't, and I can drive better than you, so shut up_. All this passed between the two of them in a split second look. No time to take action on it because Daisy was talking again.

"_I'm learning so many interesting things about how nature works. It's like finally knowing how it all fits together, how the hills and the woods and the swamp all make one big environment…"_

Bo smirked. _Well, now I have an answer, if he asks._ Would have been bored by the topic if he hadn't thought there might be a test in his immediate future. And if Daisy hadn't sounded so excited. Until she stopped being cheerful, like flipping off a light switch.

"_I wanna go to graduate school, too, but it ain't gonna happen."_

"Why not?" If it was a matter of money, Bo would give her what she needed. Luke would, too, he knew, but Bo was in a better position at the moment, sometimes winning more from a single race than Luke could earn in a month.

"_Cause I'm gonna need to go back to Hazzard someday_." Said carefully, in a way that assigned no blame, but there was no way possible for Luke not to hear the silent _because you boys are just too thick-headed to work things out_. Daisy would never say it, probably wasn't even thinking it, but Luke was. And when Bo felt his cousin stiffen a bit, felt it because they were just that close together, he remembered exactly what it meant.

But – "Don't worry about that yet, sweetheart," was all the oldest Duke cousin said.

* * *

Jesse, he was the harder one to call. He might be happy to know that his boys were together, but well, he might also yell at them for taking so long. Never knew what you'd get with the headstrong old timer, but he was the man who had raised them and one of the things they had learned was that calling home was pretty much a requirement, whether you were fifteen miles away or fifteen hundred. They'd made worse calls.

"_Luke, is that you? Well, just slow down. You're talkin' so fast only a chipmunk could understand you."_

"_I just know you ain't gonna like what I'm gonna tell you. So… listen. What Rosco's chasin' us for is… well… we got caught with some pot."_

"_What!?"_

"_Yeah, marijuana."_

This couldn't possibly be as bad as that one had been.

To their surprise, their uncle wasn't cantankerous, he was gentle. And this worried them both more than anything. A look across the handset between them, _does he sound right to you, cuz?_ An answer – _no…_

Still, there was nothing to do except ask the old man how he was doing and accept the answer that he was fine. Nothing to do at the moment, anyway. But by the end of that night they had agreed to meet in Hazzard for the holidays, and make some decisions. And the next morning it was time for Bo to head back to the airport, which he would only do after securing a promise from Luke that the older Duke would be careful while working and even more so while driving. And Luke snickered and asked for the same in return, since working and driving were the same thing, when it came to his cousin.


	7. Plenty Scared

_Hey - thanks to everyone who has been sticking with this story, and special thanks to those who take a moment to review. I warned you up front that this one was a bit different, and these next few chapters are, too. So, to those who have been so encouraging - I really appreciate it, because I know it's different and sometimes hard to read._

_I don't own them, and I mean no harm to those who do._

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Chapter 7 – Plenty Scared

They should have come sooner. Fought less, checked in more, worked it out. Because it was more than Jesse's heart (however mild the attack might have been), and they only needed to be home for a few minutes to see it. The old man was losing weight and had already lost the luster from his eyes. Two ashamed cousins couldn't miss the signs if they tried (_Bo would miss a house landing on his own head, but he can see this, every bit as much as I can_) – their uncle was sick.

It dawned on Luke to wonder just how long it would be before he and his cousin were yelling at each other again, then, quick as he'd thought of it, he resolved it wouldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. Though how he hoped to accomplish that was beyond him at the moment. Telling Bo _not_ to do something was a sure way to get that something done. And Bo was already whirling on him with that look on his face – _look what you made us do._

Fought taking that bait, but he was tired of always getting the blame for everything - so he looked right back at his cousin with a half-exasperated _don't start_ kind of look. Which was, of course, an invitation for Bo to start. Saw his cousin's mouth opening and beat him to the punch (which must have meant his mouth opened first, and that wasn't a good sign, not if he was going to resist fighting with him).

"Bo…"

"Luke…"

"Boys…" And that was their uncle still sitting in his recliner (_he's had that since before any of us was born, and it was worn out then. Why haven't we ever tried to replace it for him?) _putting an end to it before it could begin. "Welcome home. I've missed ya." Which forced hugs and peace. At least the kind of peace that meant no arguing. Certainly not peace of mind.

* * *

The porch. Couldn't argue here, they were too close to the house. Couldn't even talk civilly here. Jesse was right inside sitting in his recliner and _did he look as old to you as he did to me?_ This was why they had developed their silent communication skills in the first place. It was the only way to (try to) keep some secrets from their uncle.

And after a minute the two of them heard what they'd known they would: the hum of an engine far too small for a car. _It just ain't fair that Miz Tisdale can still ride that thing, and I ain't even sure that Uncle Jesse can stand up_. At least he hadn't moved around much since they'd arrived, though it was clear he must have gotten to his chair somehow, and it couldn't have involved leaning on the diminutive woman that was just now pulling her motorcycle into their driveway.

A few long strides and the boys were out there with her, far enough from the house to say–

"What's wrong with Uncle Jesse?" just popped right out of Bo's mouth; apparently it had been waiting to escape all along.

And he didn't even have to look at Luke to know his cousin was annoyed. Could see the twist to his face in his mind, didn't need to actually turn and get an eyeful of it. Luke always got angry when Bo jumped the gun, _but Jesse's sick, cuz, so that gun's done already gone off_.

"What Bo means is, howdy, Miz Tisdale, it's nice to see you."

But Emma Tisdale didn't bother with flirtation, not unless it was coming from Jesse Duke. And Bo's question had been on her mind, too.

"Hi, Luke. And I don't know, Bo, because that stubborn old coot won't let me take him to the doc – and when I brought the doc here, he won't even open his mouth for the thermometer."

In spite of themselves, two heads went down and two snickers escaped right out into that open air, could actually see them coming out, because it was just that dank out here.

"That's Uncle Jesse," Luke admitted with just traces of a smile. Because it really wasn't funny at all, and both boys knew that. They weren't kids anymore.

"Well, it's about time you boys showed up here to talk some sense into that man. I swear, he's the handsomest man in all of Hazzard, but when it comes to some things, I just want to take him over my knee!"

Luke's head went back with that one, a real laugh, and Bo found himself laughing, too, despite the worry that was about to reassert itself to the forefront of his mind. Now if that wasn't a picture… Uncle Jesse getting whupped by Emma Tisdale.

And then, the chastisement about how _it was about time_ seemed to hit Luke, and seeing the shame in his cousin's face, Bo, too. And Miz Tisdale, she'd never forgotten it.

"So get back in there and make him let Doc Appleby examine him, ya hear?" And for such a tiny woman, she really did carry a lot of weight. But not enough to move their uncle, and Bo wasn't sure he and Luke could, either.

"Ma'am," he said, those manners his uncle had long ago taught him reasserting themselves now, "I ain't sure me and Luke can do that, neither." Which, naturally, led to an elbow in his side, and naturally meant his cousin was going to prove him wrong. Suited him just fine, so long as whatever Luke had in mind didn't wind up getting him in trouble. (_In trouble with who? Uncle Jesse ain't in no condition to reign us in, not no more. _And didn't that just hurt like crazy to think about.)

* * *

Luke really should have been a lawyer, Bo reflected, what with his ability to sell anything to a jury, even when it was a jury of one.

Well, Luke's lawyering skills worked on almost anyone. Never seemed to work on his family – they just knew him too well. Knew him so well…

Bo, watching his cousin standing there working double-time on convincing Jesse, and simply – laid an arm across Luke's shoulders. Luke turning to look at him, one second of appraisal, of thinking too damn hard, then let loose a genuine smile for his cousin, and finally Bo felt a general relaxation of Luke's muscles. He was an even better lawyer when his younger cousin was within arm's reach. Good enough, even, to convince Jesse.

"I suppose Daisy could come home and look after you," he was suggesting. "Since you don't need no doctor," and then parroting Jesse's own words back at him. "And you don't seem to need nothing that me and Bo has offered you. You got Daisy's phone number, cuz?"

And suddenly it was time for his part in this little shuck and jive routine. Seemed like Luke had never learned to give him any warning. Just like always, he turned it over to Bo and expected that his cousin would just take his cue. "Uh, oh, yeah, somewheres I think," Bo agreed, patting his pockets and knowing he was fumbling, but it was clear that Jesse was beginning to cave in anyway. Sorta. You had to know him well to see the signs.

"Daisy don't need to come here," their uncle said, sounding every bit like he did whenever he had a toothache but decided that he didn't actually need to go to the dentist after all – which was usually after they'd managed to get him in the car and on the way.

"Well, Miz Tisdale's done had enough of your fool ways," and though the older woman blushed, she also nodded – funny how she could push big men like the Duke boys around, then turn into a bowl of jelly in a heartbeat when Jesse showed up on the scene. "And you ain't listening to me and Bo. Someone's got to help you out here, seeing as you can't even get out of that chair."

"Well, now ain't that just dandy," Jesse wheedled. "You think that just 'cause I take a few minutes to rest, I can't get up? All them nights I got up to take care of you when you had the colic, just a little baby screaming your fool head off, and I didn't complain, not one bit, even if I was tired from workin' all day. Shoot, I been gettin' up since before you was born, and I'll be gettin' up long after you're gone." Bluffing and blustering and not even listening to himself. Sounded just like the old Jesse, all right, except that there were grunts in there as he tried to pull himself to his feet. And succeeded, because clearly he _was _capable, and clearly, it took a lot of effort. "Are you boys happy now?"

"No!" Bo almost-shouted, more as a warning than anything, because he was afraid that the old man would topple. Took his hand off Luke and reached for Jesse – Jesse, who didn't touch Bo and yet somehow slapped him back all the same. Must have been that look in his eyes, practically made of blue fire.

"I ain't that bad off, I'm just tired. You'd be tired too, if you'd had to chase after you two boys all your life. But," and here his voice changed to match his admission of fatigue, "If it means so much to you boys, you can just get old Doc to come here. It's a waste of time and money, but if it'll make the two of you stop lookin' so… scared, I'll do it."

Scared, yeah, no point in arguing about that. Bo was plenty scared.

* * *

The truth was, he was a little scared. Or maybe a lot. He'd worked so hard at not thinking about it (with no help at all from Emma, nagging all the time like she did) that he didn't know anymore, just how frightened he was.

A certainty in him, that his time was coming. And that part didn't scare him, not really. He knew, just as well as he knew that October would bring the first frost, that in the end he'd be joining Lavinia in a better place.

No, what was a problem was knowing how soon, and not wanting to rush his kids. He'd kept them here on the farm too long, made them too dependent on him and one another. It was a necessity, back when they ran 'shine. In that business, you had to know, without a doubt, that your family was behind you. You had to predict their every move, know just when they'd steer left so you could escape to the right. Had to communicate in the dark, in separate vehicles, without words. His kids had learned that, and Bo and Luke had perfected it well beyond Jesse's expectations.

But when they'd given up the trade, and those boys of his had paid in years of probation for the old man's stubborn unwillingness to quit sooner, they'd almost become too interdependent. It hadn't hurt that Boss Hogg was always after them for one thing or another, making them watch each other's backs more than any normal family would, at least in a county where the local law didn't harass and harangue you.

But when the heat was off, it became apparent that the whole thing had held them back, kept them from lives they might otherwise have led. And when the old man had all but pushed his boys out the door (as always, Daisy was the easy one, going of her own accord) they'd finally begun to experience what their uncle thought was probably their destiny. Bo, well he was never hard to figure out. Driving on the NASCAR circuit, and nothing else would do. And Luke, doing something both dangerous and important, protecting others, even as he put himself at risk.

And it was just too soon for him to be passing on now. Them boys needed more time out there in the great big world.

Or maybe that wasn't it at all. He'd just been telling himself that for so long…

Maybe he simply didn't want his kids to see him die. They'd seen so much loss before they'd even gotten to their teens, and he didn't want them there, _hurting_ like they'd been when Lavinia passed, looking at him with all that sadness in their eyes, and nothing he could do to make it better. He was their uncle, their guardian. He was supposed to protect them from such things. Maybe he just wanted his kids to go on with their lives and let him die quietly, out of their sight.

* * *

Luke was scared. Thought he was too old or too hardened or just too logical to feel this kind of fear, but here it was, and he wasn't enjoying a second of it. Jesse had consented to an examination, so long as it took place here at the farm. No problem – Hazzard was one place where house call would probably never go out of style. But now Doc Appleby had seen his uncle (another loss in Hazzard, some years back, when old Doc Petticord had passed, but Doc Appleby, well, they'd known him all their lives, too) and had pronounced that there was, indeed, something to worry about. Hadn't said those words of course, he was too professional for that. But he'd made it clear that the Duke patriarch needed tests, and likely hospitalization. The old man had lost too much weight in too short a time, had too little of an appetite and too much stomach discomfort to be indigestion, was too pale and too fatigued (and too sick to stay home – not said, but they all knew it).

"Luke," his uncle suggested, as always counting on his oldest to protect his younger cousins, "I think it's best if you boys go home for awhile. Go back to your jobs and your lives and I'll call you when I know more…"

"Uncle Jesse," despite the fear in his gut, and the sincerity of his uncle's request, Luke squared himself and answered without a waver, for both himself and his cousin, as always, "Me and Bo ain't going nowheres."


	8. Grueling Harvest

_So, by now it's obvious that where this story started with the idea of what would send the Duke kids scrambling off to the separate lives they lived in the reunion movies, it doesn't lead back to those movies. The boys just couldn't stay apart that long. Still, you'll see that in some ways I skipped straight past the first reunion movie and off towards the second._

_Thanks to everyone who has been reading thus far, and double thanks to those who stop in and review._

_I don't own the Dukes or Hazzard, only the plot._

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Grueling Harvest**

His girl had come back home, too. Now they were all in Hazzard, his kids that weren't kids no more. And they really did have those sad faces, even when they smiled at him, asked if he was comfortable, could they get him anything? And never, ever, asked him how he was…

Because they knew, and they didn't want to know. And, if he could have changed things, he would have kept them from knowing.

They couldn't change it. Each and every one of them wanted to, but some things couldn't be changed. Gastroenterologist. Endoscopy. Biopsy. Gastrointestinal Stromal Tumors. Metastasized. A whole new vocabulary learned in just a few short weeks. And finally, inoperable. And even, untreatable. Oh, he could go through the radiation and chemotherapy (not exactly new vocabulary words, but certainly not any they'd ever used on a day to day basis before) but they wouldn't do anything except make him sicker. It was just too far gone. Stomach cancer.

This was not what he'd wanted for his kids.

* * *

"Bo." His cousin was in the barn, looking lost.

"No chickens, Luke. We ain't got no chickens."

Bo was nothing if not observant. "No, we ain't," he answered with a straight face, waiting for his cousin's next declaration of the obvious.

"Luke," and the shadows caught in the anguished shape of Bo's face were enough to pull him up short. Eyebrows meeting in the center and cheeks pulled in taut, teeth not quite biting at his lip, and, "We've always had chickens. It's where we got eggs."

Yes, Luke was fully aware of that. But he wasn't going to point that out just now. "This ain't about chickens," he announced instead, no doubt in that. Felt the muscles in his own jaw start to twitch a bit, and swallowed, hard.

"Maudine's done passed…" Bo wasn't done making discoveries – things he already knew and yet needed to know all over again. "No cow to milk. No goats."

Yep, that about completed the inventory.

Not quite. Looking up – "No hay, or not much anyway. Luke, even Cooter had hay and a cow."

Had – because they didn't know anymore. Trips home had always been quick and family oriented. They'd seen Cooter in town, at the garage, but never at his home. And now, according to Miz Tisdale, he wasn't in Hazzard at all. But there was no time to think real hard about that right at the moment. Bo was talking again, or trying to.

"It ain't… right, Luke. This ain't our farm."

Well, it was their farm, but it wasn't home. Luke had noticed that, too, but there hadn't been much of a chance to worry about it, what with Jesse's medical needs and the short time they would have left to share with him… Leave it to the baby of the family to complain about missing the livestock.

Luke didn't know what to say. Bo was looking to him to – fix it – and he couldn't. He wanted to snap at his cousin, but couldn't do that either. "Yeah." It was all he had, the only thing he could give his cousin: agreement.

"We'd have to start over…" Half a thought, maybe something they weren't ready to really think about, because – "After he's gone." And that was as much as Bo could say.

"We got time," Luke tried, but they both knew it wasn't much. "To think about it."

Two adult men, standing a nearly empty barn, studying the dirt at their feet. Finally, one moved, hard to say which, because in a moment, they met in the middle, comforting each other as best they knew how.

* * *

"Daisy." He knew it was pointless, at least right now, but he wanted to make an impression on her. Most of his adult life had been dedicated to making an impression on these kids (sometimes working overtime, because it was difficult to make an impression on such hard heads as his boys had), and hoping that it would lead to some kind of positive outcome in the future. "I want you to go back to school."

A shaking head, visible horror in her eyes, was Daisy's response. _I'm not leaving you_, though she didn't actually say it.

The old man closed is eyes. Tired, but there was still work to be done. He might not have planted these kids, but he'd tended them carefully through their growth and ripening. As always, harvest was grueling, but without it, all the effort he'd put in thus far was for nothing.

"Not right now." Giving in, but not really. He'd expected this part. "But… as soon as you can. After." Words unsaid, but where there been horror seconds ago, now there were tears. "Come here, girl."

Most days he still insisted on spending in his recliner. His kids would take turns, keeping him company and disappearing in shifts. He was exhausted, he was ill, but at least so far, he hadn't required any particularly special medical care, not since those few days in the hospital. Between his children, Emma Tisdale, who would've moved in if there had been room, frequent afternoons with Lulu Coltrane Hogg, and brief visits by other townsfolk, he was never alone. He still liked to be at the center of things. But moments like this one, where he actually had some privacy with his girl, were rare, and he needed to take advantage of them while he could. Even if she wasn't ready to hear what he had to say.

"I'm sorry," she was saying, getting to her knees at his feet (heard her joints pop a little on the way down – what had happened to the spunky little girl that bounced around the house with such incredible energy? Who was this woman in front of him that seemed so serious?), "Uncle Jesse."

"Well now, Daisy, I don't reckon you got much to be sorry for. But if it's them tears you're apologizing about? Well, it's just good to know you'll miss me." Shouldn't have said that. He was trying to let her off the hook, but it hadn't worked. She was crying more and trying harder to stop it. "I'll miss you, too." Might as well finish the thought. She couldn't get any more upset.

She didn't. If anything, his last few words seemed to calm her a bit, at least enough to listen to him, he judged. Her fine hair caught lightly in the calluses of his hands as he stroked it. Funny how his palms had never softened, even after he'd stopped using them for constant heavy work. Farm life was imprinted in his body. But some days he could almost feel the cancer finally taking away what a lifetime of hard work had given him.

"After I'm gone, sweetheart, I want you to go back to school." Head shaking, like she was still the little girl that didn't want to wear a dress to church (where had his tomboy gone?). "Daisy, please." He never said please to his kids. Didn't need to, yes, but also knew that the word would essentially compel them to do whatever he asked. And it wasn't fair to manipulate them that way. Except now, when it mattered more than anything ever had. "When the time comes, go back to school."

Breathing deep and slow, calming herself, the woman he'd loved every bit as much as his departed wife – nodded. A tiny gesture, chin down then up again. Reached up as he leaned forward, and held onto him. Slight shift to get his beard out of her ear, quick giggle, and there she was, the excitable little girl that used to bully her cousins, making Luke silently beg their guardian to relax the rules about hitting girls back.

* * *

They were waiting for their uncle to die. Waiting, something Bo had never learned to do. Teachers, uncles, cousins, sheriffs – everyone had tried to teach him the concept of holding his horses, taking a moment, counting ten, being patient, but it had never worked. But now – he hoped the interim, this moment before, would last forever. Hoped for it as he spent a lot of time outside of the house. Chores, who would've thought he'd missed them so much? Chores would've given him the excuse to be out here as often as he was. Him and Luke, because, yep, here his cousin came.

"There you are." As if it had been hard to find him. As if Bo didn't spend a lot of time in this very spot these days, uncomfortable as it was to sit in the roots of an oak tree when you were well over six feet tall and approaching thirty.

"Them teachers was right when they called you the smart one." Squinting up at the man standing in front of him, wondering how soon Luke would do his duty as the oldest child and return inside with his younger cousin in tow.

"Come on, Bo," the solidness of his cousin, offering a hand up. Bo balked, or at least didn't move quickly, leading to – "Trust me."

Well, if it was a matter if trust – Bo reached up and took hold, felt the warmth of Luke in his hand. Felt himself get hauled up and then in a lazy gesture, one that knew exactly how tall he was, and just how wide, and even where his body was sore from leaning against a tree, Luke slung an arm around Bo's back, leading him towards the barn. Led him all the way to that dusty corner where they hadn't yet gone, to that thing that they both knew was there, but had let lie for now. Walked him right up to it and started tugging on the dust cover. The General.

"Where are we going, Luke?" They'd left the farm over the process of Jesse's diagnosis and illness, of course. Bo had gone all the way to Atlanta, even, to pick up some things and officially take an emergency leave of absence from his team. But whenever the Duke boys had left the farm, wherever they'd gone, they'd always used a practical car. The farm truck, Bo's sedan, even Daisy's motorcycle. But today, apparently, they were going out in the General.

"Playing hooky." Small grin at that. Answered by an honest smile, the first in weeks.

"Think he'll start?"

"I know he will." No explanation of that; none necessary. Clearly Luke had been out to this corner after all, tinkering with the Charger whenever he'd been slipping away from the house. (_Of course – he always used to pop open the hood of a car when things went wrong, fixing things he could touch, instead of those he could only feel_. _And me? I have my own ways of handling bad things.) _Didn't have to ask or even look. He knew Luke would be getting in the passenger side, letting Bo go where he needed to. Turned the key and – "Drive," Luke commanded. Should have minded that it was an order, but didn't.

Town. It wasn't like they hadn't been here from time to time over the last month. Of course they had. But not with the General. And while the back roads offered a certain type of promise, town offered the opportunity for some fun, and it seemed like years since they'd had – fun. Even if they weren't kids anymore.

Enos, though, wouldn't be part of it. They already knew he was gone, back to L.A. Daisy's marriage had seen to that. But maybe Cletus… who was on foot, pretending to write tickets. Faking, it was obvious, because his pen was a good four inches above the ticket book, and he was sort of wandering, rather than actually moving from car to car. Bo pulled up to the curb on the wrong side of the road, and Luke slipped up onto the window frame.

"Hey, Cletus." Luke's teasing voice, _can you come out to play?_ Wouldn't be caught dead saying that, but it was there in his tone, all the same. "Whatcha doin'?" As if they couldn't see.

"Hi, Bo! Hi, Luke!" This wasn't the first time either one of them had seen him, but it was probably his first exposure in years to both Duke boys at once.

The greetings were friendly and completely ignored the number of times Cletus had clapped handcuffs around their wrists and exactly how many ponds the Dukes had tricked the deputy into landing in, cruiser and all.

"So, uh," because subtlety was _not_ Bo's middle name. "You want to chase us?" And he slid onto his own doorframe, up and even with Luke. Couldn't let his cousin have the height advantage.

"Sorry, boys, I can't. Sheriff Coltrane's got me out here patrolling so's he can meet with his campaign manager. Wants me out of the office, but nearby, in case he needs me."

"Campaign manager?" No wonder those words had gotten stuck in Luke's brain. Bo couldn't shake them either. "What's he campaigning for?"

"County Commissioner," their childhood friend answered with a shrug, like everyone knew that. And maybe people who didn't spend their days in a farmhouse, waiting for a beloved family member to – well, maybe most Hazzardites did know it. But it was news to the Dukes.

"Rosco?"

Bo giggled, half at the notion that the sheriff would run, and half at the look on Luke's face. Never realized how much he missed the silly faces Luke sometimes made, like right now: _are you kidding me?_ The facial asymmetry of Luke all exaggerated in his effort to point out exactly what a ridiculous idea _that_ was.

"_Boss_ Rosco? Shoot the only reason he's ever elected sheriff was 'cause almost no one else ever wanted the job. Boss Rosco." That last part under Luke's breath, but Bo heard it. His own face was a broad grin, one that he could feel stretching out-of-shape muscles.

"Boss Rosco," he repeated with some wonder. "Now wait a minute, Luke, I think that could work out." Skepticism. Not as much fun as some of Luke's other looks, but it would do for the moment. "Yeah, 'cause, see, it'll save money on taxes. At least he ain't got to buy fake fire hydrants – he's already got 'em!" A headshake, that smirk that was too smart for all this (and wasn't it amazing – of all things, Bo had actually missed _that_), then Luke was slipping back into the car. But – "Who is Rosco's campaign manager?"

"Emery Potter."

"You gotta be kiddin'," he said sliding down next to his cousin. "That'll be the most boring campaign ever."

"Yep," Cletus agreed. "So far they done made posters. They say 'Vote for Rosco Coltrane, Hazzard County Commissioner.'"

Snicker from Luke. "Well, it's honest, anyways. It don't say nothin', but it don't lie. Maybe Rosco's goin' straight."

Arched eyebrows, like they were thinking about that, then, "Nah!" in unison. Cletus laughed with them as they waved and pulled away from the curb.

* * *

"One good thing about Cooter being gone," Bo was saying.

"What's that?" They had been away from the farm for most of the day. Luke was going to have to do something especially nice for Daisy. While she'd agreed that the boys needed some time away from the house, he hadn't secured her permission to disappear for this long. Still, driving hadn't been enough. They'd needed this time to just sit by Hazzard Pond and – rest.

"Well, if he's really fightin' the system by being part of it? And if he actually gets hisself elected to Congress like Miss Lulu thinks he will? We'll have a good ally against Rosco." Which assumed they'd be here – within arm's reach – to need an ally. And led right back to things they weren't ready to discuss.

So they sat in silence for awhile, which would have made sense, if only they'd had fishing poles. Long about the time that Luke was wondering which cobwebs in the barn were hiding their fishing poles, Bo spoke up again.

"Luke." Long pause.

"_Bo_," he answered with a smirk, since his cousin seemed to have forgotten the rest of whatever it was that he was going to say. Sarcastic, yes, but that was Luke, and Bo would understand.

Except he didn't smirk back. Didn't take offense, either, just looked at him.

"Spit it out, cuz."

But apparently it wasn't the kind of thing that could be – spat. So Luke just waited, lying on his side in the grass, head propped on his hand and watching his cousin sit there with emotions passing across his face.

"Talk to me, Bo." It was probably the gentlest thing he'd said to his cousin since – well, it was certainly nicer than he'd been since they'd moved out of Hazzard. Seemed to be what Bo needed.

"Do you ever wish..." It must be bad. Bo could always talk. In school, during the church sermon, in the bed next to him, Bo's mouth was always moving. Not necessarily making any sense, but saying words, followed by even more words. But now he was struggling to say even one thing.

Luke waited quietly, simply because he couldn't think of a single other thing to do. Bo met his eyes for only a second, then looked away over the pond they'd grown up skipping stones across. But in that brief eye contact, Luke knew his cousin was hurting.

"Do you ever wish it was already over?" His voice cracked, and Luke drew himself out of his lazy position. "I don't want Uncle Jesse to be gone, not really, and just this mornin' I was hopin' we'd have a long time before he left us," words spilling almost too fast to follow now. "But this waiting… and it's only going to get worse…" Luke was moving more quickly, not sure whether it had to do with wanting to comfort Bo or just make him stop talking. Maybe both. Put his hands on his cousin's shoulders, not sure what Bo would take from him right now. "He's gonna suffer, Luke."

The thing neither of them wanted to think about. And there it was. All said and just floating around them and out over the pond. A younger, rasher version of himself might have told Bo to shut up. Instead, he tightened his hold on Bo's shoulders and tugged, sliding them both across the ground towards each other, getting grass stains on the seats of their jeans, no doubt (_good thing Daisy don't do the wash no more or we'd be ducking flying rolling pins for this one_). Bo came with the pull, didn't fight it, so he knew. Slipped his arms around his cousin, felt Bo's hands on his own back, and said the only words he had.

"I know."


	9. Gonna Be Better For It

_Hey y'all - thanks for riding this one out. We're almost there now. And all the same sort of warnings I've been giving all along are attached to this chapter. It may be difficult for some to read._

_I don't own the Dukes or Hazzard, and I earn nothing for what I post here._

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Gonna Be Better For It**

His oldest wouldn't look him in the eye. That needed to be dealt with, and soon, or Luke would live a lifetime of regrets. But right now it was Bo that stood in front of him, in clear need of – something. It was a good day, the kind where the old man could sit relatively comfortably, and enjoy the company that came. One where he could talk for hours, reliving his own youthful adventures and the childhoods of his charges. A day where every memory was coated in sunshine and laughter, even the ones that shouldn't have been.

But Bo. Jesse could tell that the baby of his family wasn't having one of those days. It was quiet now, Luke and Daisy out of the house, and no guests. Just him and the child that usually made them all smile. Who was currently projecting a heavy gloom, and this wasn't surprising, really. He'd been this way, with few reprieves, ever since hearing Jesse's diagnosis.

"What's on your mind, son?" As if he didn't know. But there were some things you couldn't do for your kids. Like make their decisions for them. Or tell them why they were so upset.

A slight shrug, looking down like the little boy he'd once been, standing in that very spot and confessing to dumping paste in the Griffin girl's hair because she'd called him a "foo-foo," whatever that meant in the jargon of first grade insults that year. Of course, not ten summers later he'd had to stand there again, just about as uncomfortably, and confess to dings in Jesse's truck, put there by Bob Griffin because the Duke boy had been somewhat late in bringing that same girl home from a date. The buckshot had missed Bo (Jesse knew it would – he'd never actually hit any of the fellows Daisy'd dated, either) but the truck, that had to be explained. By a teenager who looked every bit as miserable as the young man in front of him now.

"Find yourself a seat, Bo. Ah!" Catching his youngest just before he planted himself on the arm of the recliner, "Not there." Should have known that boy would want to get close. "Bring in a chair from the kitchen." Because the nearest existing seat was the couch and that would be just too far away for the most affectionate member of the family.

Doing as he was told, Bo found the compromise. A hard backed chair, but right up close where they could be side by side, shoulders almost touching. This way there didn't have to be eye contact unless they wanted it. And while Bo had nothing to hide, he wasn't sure he could tolerate looking too hard at the old man who was, for all intents and purposes, his father.

Pulling teeth, it looked like, would be the activity of the day. At least Jesse could hope it would end better than when he'd literally had to pull one of Bo's more stubborn baby teeth. There'd been lots of tears that day, and eating had been uncomfortable for a couple of meals, too. And Bo Duke was not one to pass up food. Of course, Luke had offered to punch Bo's teeth out for him, a suggestion that was genuinely meant to be helpful, but Jesse was glad to have intercepted that little discussion before it could germinate into action.

Luke. Maybe there was something there.

"How's things going with you and Luke, son?"

"We's fine, Uncle Jesse." We's fine. It was all he ever heard anymore. We's fine, how are you? Shoot, his kids could walk in the door minus an arm, and if he asked about it they'd say, 'We's fine, Uncle Jesse. How are you?'

"You boys been fightin'?" No matter how sick their guardian was, Bo would be forced to answer a direct question, he was sure of it.

"No, sir." Genuine surprise in that tone. So it wasn't Luke and that was just the best news the farmer had heard in weeks. He loved his boys, and he knew they loved each other. They were just too stubborn to admit it, most of the time. He really hoped they'd outgrown that, finally. They weren't exactly kids no more.

"Then why are you sitting there looking like you done lost your best friend?" Because Luke was, and always would be, his best friend.

His baby boy turned to look in his eyes, a long, solid look, like hadn't happened yet today, and wasn't that a surprise. Something close to skepticism, so unexpected in his youngest. Maybe just disbelief. "Because I'm gonna lose you."

_Leave it to Bo._

Eyes half closed, not sure whether he was thinking or resting his brain after that little bombardment straight from Bo's heart to his, Jesse nodded. Nodded longer than it would take to acknowledge the words, because there was nothing he could think of to say.

"You know I'll always be with you." It was a start, anyway. Daisy was easy, she'd cry and let him comfort her. Bo was a wild card, never knew whether you'd get tears or fists or just straight-up honesty. But whatever it was, it usually came fast and lasted for only a few seconds, like a jarring and unexpected collision. Sure didn't make dealing with him easy, but his family members usually emerged with only superficial body damage. Jesse could ride this skid out.

"That ain't so…" _It's just one of those things you say when you don't know how to say goodbye. _Bo's profile stretched with the effort to remain both calm and respectful. Anger was under there, lurking.

"It's so," Jesse said with gentle conviction. "Just like your Grandma is always with me. Why, you boys wouldn't be anything like gentlemen now, if'n I couldn't hear her voice echoing in my head the whole time I's raising you."

Snicker. _I ain't no gentleman_.

Jesse ignored it. Or ignored the sarcasm and enjoyed the half-laugh. It was as close a thing to Bo's giggle as he had heard in a long, long time.

"_Them boys is gettin' a mite rough_, she'd remind me, and I'd switch your behinds until you behaved. Then, when you was bleatin' like a baby billy goat, she'd be tellin' me, _they's gonna be better for it_. Was the only thing that kept me sane, was my Momma."

The snicker was gone, and along with it, any traces of happiness from Bo's face.

"I'm gonna be there, Bo, reminding you forever, 'bout how I love you and I'm proud of you. And if'n you do wind up with kids, I'll be there tellin' you just how great they're turnin' out, just like their daddy."

Slump. No fight in those shoulders anymore. Maybe it hadn't been fair, reminding Bo just how much he was loved right now. Might've been better to let him holler for a little while, if it made him feel better. Too late now. And Bo's shoulders were just too big and broad to reach around now. A hand – it would have to do. Picked up a hand and held it. Felt Bo's head drop onto his shoulder and the moisture of tears. As if he could have missed the sobs so close to his ear. Probably hadn't been fair to tell Bo he loved him like that. Let go of the large hand in his, and reached up to stroke soft curls.

* * *

A walk with Daisy. _How did that happen?_ Not that he was opposed, not really. It just wasn't in his plans. He'd wanted to walk, sure. But alone.

"How you holding up, Luke?" And that was exactly why he'd wanted to be alone.

"M'fine." And so she'd have no time for the second part of the question, whatever that might be, "How about you?"

"I ain't exactly_ fine_, Luke Duke." Accusation in that, and he deserved it. _When your cousin asks you how you're doing, you can't be fine, not if your uncle is dying._ Noted that, but didn't know when he'd ever use it again. Soon it'd just be the three of them.

"M'sorry," he conceded, slinging an arm around her. He got yelled at a lot, sometimes just because he was the oldest and no matter what he did, people expected _more_ of him. But sometimes he really deserved it. "I didn't mean I was fine. I meant I was okay."

The weight of her head on his shoulder for just a minute as they walked, then she lifted it.

"You still ain't said how you're doing," he pointed out, hoping it would keep the conversation focused on her.

"I'm dealing with it, which you ain't." He loved his family, he really did. But sometimes it was just danged hard to _breathe_ around them. He pulled away slightly, kept his hand on her, but not so tightly, and the warmth between them was gone.

"You ain't got no call to talk to me like that." Downright chilly the way she felt on his arm. Which was weird, because normally Daisy radiated warmth, like the sun itself was in her, somewhere, just making its way out through her smile, her eyes, her touch. Shoot, Enos had even been burned a couple of times, getting too close to her.

"No call, huh?" The words were heated, but the tone wasn't. "You ain't hardly looked at Uncle Jesse in a week, Luke. What'd he do?"

She was being nice. She could have been yelling, but she was asking. (_Still ain't gonna answer her._)

A shrug he could feel in his hand, across the muscles of her back. More of a deep breath, actually.

"Luke." She waited until she could be sure she had all of his attention. "When L.D. left me, he didn't say nothing. He was just gone. And even now, even while we's going through this divorce? He ain't saying nothing he don't have to." Instinctively, his arm tightened around her. Half to comfort, but somewhere in his mind he knew the gesture was part anger, wanting to hit L.D. right then and there. Daisy pulled away, not far, only enough to see his face, shaking a finger.

"Don't you go and get all protective now, Luke. That ain't what this is about."

Of course not. Everything with Daisy was _about_ something, and it was never what it ought to be about. How could this _not_ be about that creep leaving her? And there she was, talking again, interrupting his mental rant.

"It's about how not talking hurts. L.D. ain't talking to me, and that hurts. Hurts enough that you want to go and pound some sense into him." Just quiet walking for a little while, then –

"But you ain't talking to Uncle Jesse, neither. And that hurts all of us, and makes me wish I could pound some sense into you."

He might have laughed, if she hadn't been so completely heartbroken about it.

"Could be that out of the blue, maybe ten years from now, L.D. will call me up and explain all this. Could be he makes his amends someday. But, Luke, you ain't got ten years, and you can't wait for someday. You got to make it right, whatever it is."

He had no words. But as they put one foot in front of the other, his hold on her softened, and he ran his hand up then back down her back.

_I'll think about it_, everywhere in that touch.

* * *

Bo and Daisy were suspiciously out, and Luke was suspiciously right there. _Not an ounce of subtlety in this family anymore._

"Must be bad," the old man observed. "You ain't been able to look at me in more than a week." As if Luke had gotten caught going for a joy ride in the sheriff's car or something. That thought took the old man back, and today's memories were about as uncomfortable as that dull pain he sometimes got, low in his gut. Had it today, actually, his body reminding him of things that none of them wanted to talk too much about. Only two days ago, he'd felt pretty much fine, but today he knew, could feel it in his bones and his stomach, that he didn't have long. Funny how a man's body could turn on him like that.

Just the briefest flicker of a smirk across Luke's lips, still not looking at him, but a little closer now, just over Jesse's right shoulder and down the hall. Like an acknowledgement that they had a long history between them. It was a start. Figured he'd been through enough with Luke to know when he was going to give in.

"Can't be as bad as that time you had to tell me that you got Bo arrested." Watched that old guilt make its way up from the tension in Luke's shoulders, across his jaw, through the muscles of his cheek and right into those eyes that wouldn't meet his. Jesse's own mother in those eyes, passed them straight down to her oldest grandchild, and he wasn't going to leave this world without getting a good look at them again.

"It was a long time ago, Luke. You can let that go." Shouldn't have brought that up because whatever was hurting Luke now could be carefully disguised behind old guilt. This boy was good at that, hiding one thing behind another until he had all his pain lined up in a neat row that looked like nothing, when it really was a whole lot of something.

In the end it was a simple story, and one Jesse should have let lie. They'd been young to the point of foolish, too big for their britches and too wild for the Boar's Nest, but that was where they'd gone. Luke had started the brawl, and Bo had gotten arrested for it. The problem was not even that Bo spent the night in jail, but that Luke let him do it alone, didn't get himself arrested, too. Oh, he'd tried, but half-heartedly, it seemed, because if a Duke wanted a night in jail, he pretty much had a free pass to get in there.

But this was an ancient transgression, one that he'd made up for with years of protecting his cousin, and now Luke was hiding behind it.

"Luke." Old irritation, as old as the man in front of him, boiled up in Jesse. He didn't have time for Luke's shell-game emotions today. Didn't help that the chair was uncomfortable and he was thinking he should have stayed in bed – "Sit down. And start talkin' to me."

A curt nod, that was his boy. Give him an order and he'd likely obey. Not without his own form of protest, though. A sigh, still looking away.

"I quit my job, Jesse. I'm stayin' here in Hazzard. Even after." _After_. A word that seemed to end so many sentences these days. But that could be dealt with later.

"Well, now, that's good news, boy. I'm proud of you – if'n it's what you really want."

"It's what I want." All of the strength of Luke in that.

"Well, good. I'm glad you decided that. But it ain't why you've been lookin' for stains on my walls lately. Out with it."

Deep swallow, and there were those eyes, staring right into his with all that beauty – and anguish.

"Whyja make us go, Uncle Jesse?" Standing, pacing, because there was no way Luke would just sit there and talk, not when his pain was all exposed like this. "These last couple of years, we coulda been here with you. But you sent us away, and now you're going to be gone soon…" _At least he didn't say _after_ this time_ – "We coulda had more time together."

"We coulda," Jesse allowed, "but then you boys woulda never knowed what else was out there." Didn't even sound right to his own ears, and before that thought was through, Luke was already turning on him.

"What else was out there? Uncle Jesse, ain't nothing out there more important than family. You raised us all to know that!" There they were again, those eyes, just boring into his own tired ones.

Hand up, half concession, half asking for a chance to try to explain. _And just watch how Luke backs off, all guilt now. A whole spectrum of emotions in the human race, and the only two this boy seems to know are anger and guilt._

"Simmer down, Luke." Managed to make his voice very gentle with that, something he'd never done with this boy before. "And come here. Please?"

A mess of contradictions. That was Luke. _Don't touch me_ everywhere in his stance, and yet, touch was the thing that would settle him down the fastest. Bless Bo for having taught them all how to handle Luke's rough side. Seemed like throughout their lives, Bo always had one hand somewhere on Luke's arms, back, shoulders, and as long as that was the case, Luke could keep his temper.

The _please_ had done it. Luke was in front of him, now. Squatting suddenly, eye to eye. Jesse placed a hand on his head, just for a moment, before it tiredly slid down to the boy's hard forearm.

"I was tryin' to give you boys some choices. And tryin' to let you grow up a little, too. As long as you was here, together, you was just doin' the same things, makin' the same mistakes, over and over. You was grating on each other, too." And quick, because Luke was getting ready to defend his own case, and Jesse had yet to tell him the most important thing. "But I didn't know… I thought we'd have years before… Before I had to leave you. I thought we had time, Luke. I was wrong. Maybe I was wrong about all of it. But… I didn't want you to live a lifetime of regrets."

Regrets. If those weren't regrets starting to drip from Luke's eyes now, he didn't know what was. "I'm sorry, Luke. You know I don't want to leave you."

And it had been decades since this had happened. His oldest was now kneeling, his head on Jesse's thigh, expressing his answering sorrow without words. Ran his hand through his older boy's curls (_getting some gray in the back there son_) and waited for the anguish to pass. Hoped, when it was done, that he'd get to see those bright blue eyes one more time.


	10. Within Arm's Reach

_Hey all! Special thanks to everyone who stayed with me on this one. It wasn't the easiest to read on a couple of levels, I know. I appreciate your support as I experimented with different material, and a different style. The boys are grateful as well. They did all the hard parts, really. I was just their conduit._

_And for those who left a review in their wake - you guys are the best. _

_As always, I don't own them and I don't earn any money from what I post here. And if there is anything I have learned from this story, it's that none of us will ever own them. They will always do exactly what they want, no matter how much we might try to tell them not to._

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Within Arm's Reach**

There was a time, so long ago that it should have taken place in black and white, when they had been good at this. A bad thing to be good at, but they were. Knew the rhythm of death, the process of grief, the necessity of moving forward despite the pain. There was a time when they knew these things, but that was long ago and this was now.

The brunt of it, as usual, was throwing itself at Daisy with all the merciless force of the General landing on the far side of the long since washed-out Dry Creek Bridge. A Hazzard family was obligated to mourn their loss at the same time that they threw a huge party, and the female Duke was flawlessly playing the role of hostess. Since this was Jesse Duke, Uncle Jesse Duke, no less, who had raised half of Hazzard in his own way, this might have been the biggest party ever. It brought the entire town home, even those who had obligations in other parts of the country, like Enos and Cooter.

Good thing, Enos being here. Someone else to watch over Daisy, and the cop was doing just that. Bright spark that Daisy was, running around, tending to guests and refusing to consider rest, she could combust at any moment, and if she did, he pretty much figured the whole family would blow up right along with her.

The whole family, which was really just Daisy, him and Luke now. Luke, the other wild card in the room. The animal that was usually quite tame, but should never be poked at, or he just might bite. Luke could be ferocious when he was hurting. It had been a long time now since they'd all seen it, but none of them had forgotten exactly how angry he could get, least of all Cooter, one of the few people who'd been varmint enough to keep Luke at bay when they were younger.

So Enos was watching his female cousin, and Cooter had an eye on the oldest one, leaving Bo to himself. Nothing to do but think, but that was Luke's thing. Think and drink, because for all the promises made and all the years without a working still in the family, there seemed an unending supply of moonshine that their uncle had "kept back." For medicinal purposes, of course.

The suffering that Bo feared, well it had happened, but had mercifully been very brief. Their uncle must have been exhausted. When it was clear that even Emma Tisdale no longer knew how to care for him (and amazingly, she possessed twice the skill of Daisy when it came to these things. _Why didn't you give her a chance earlier, Uncle Jesse? She obviously loved you_), they'd had to move Jesse to a hospital. At first, the three of them had all been there, but that quickly became impossible to maintain. So they'd begun taking turns staying with him, and before two weeks could pass, they'd gotten that call from Luke – _come right now_.

And though the man that raised them hadn't been conscious in days, it made perfect sense that he would choose Luke's watch to die. Everyone knew Luke could handle it. And if Bo might normally be frustrated that his uncle didn't see him as being as capable as his oldest cousin, this time he was secretly relieved. Oh, he and Daisy had made it to the hospital in time to say goodbye, but the one who took the worst of the crisis was Luke, and that only seemed well, just -- _right_. The way it had always been.

Thinking, Bo was left to now, because Luke, he was doing all the drinking. Quietly, but with obvious determination. Drinking in exactly the same manner you'd fill in a hole, one that was six feet deep. One shovel (or mouth) full at a time. Thing was, a hole could be filled. This gap in his cousin, in him, nothing could ever fill. No amount of Jesse's moonshine would ever replace Jesse. And for all his oh-so-smarts, Luke never did seem to learn that lesson. Still, he was going quiet and easy into drunk, and that was more than a mercy, because a loud, rough, drunken Luke was about as dangerous as things could get.

Daisy was looking, well, just like Daisy always did, unless you knew her well, had grown up knowing every muscle in her face. The frown under the smile – Bo could see it and so he nodded to Enos. Wandered over to Cooter, and mumbled a suggestion to the former mechanic before sitting next to Luke. Waited for Cooter to move away, then Bo gently took Luke's drink away from him, finished it himself. It wasn't that he really wanted that fire in his own belly right now, but he knew that Luke would tolerate sharing, but would never let his youngest cousin tell him that he'd had too much, even (especially) when he had. Drinking Luke's moonshine kept them on even ground, sharing a drink like they had since the first time Luke deemed him old enough to sip off the top of his beer.

"Cuz." Didn't want to fight, didn't think he'd have to. But he approached Luke carefully all the same.

Blank stare, just the slightest fold of skin between Luke's eyes, as if he already had a headache, but there was no one at home in that brilliant blue. Well, this was good and bad. Luke was pretty far gone, but he wouldn't put up any kind of a struggle. "Come on," Bo said, hauling Luke to his feet, and away from the dining table that he'd clearly been sitting at for too long. Hoped that by the time they got to the far end of the living room, Cooter would have accomplished his mission. Looked like he had – empty couch and that would do for now. Soon it would be empty house, because even if Hazzard needed this party, everyone in the county understood the Duke kids' need for it to end, and Enos and Cooter would see that they found the door quickly enough.

Daisy, though. She might have been ready for the party to break up, but not because Bo had set it in motion. Dark, glaring eyes that she normally saved for Luke were aimed at him right now. Couldn't worry about that, though he stored it away for future reference. For now he had to determine whether Luke needed more than a rest. And, thankfully, Emma Tisdale understood herself to be their de facto aunt and took Daisy quietly away – somewhere. Didn't matter where, not right now. Not while he was helping Luke figure out how to lie down (and this was not the first time Luke had been too drunk to remember how to do that, but it had been a long while), not while he was making sure that his oldest cousin didn't wind up on his back.

Somewhere in there, Cooter tapped him, the nod of his head indicating that he and Enos were the last ones left and on their way out. The sound of Miz Tisdale keeping Daisy busy with cleaning away the debris was a welcome one. It was almost over now, the public grieving. Now the real grieving could begin.

With Luke all stretched across the couch and bearing watching, there was no place for Bo to go but the patriarch's recliner. Sat there and figured he didn't know how to do this, how to be the one that his cousins could count on. Luke was drunk and Daisy was angry and it all boiled down to him being something he'd never tried to be before. (_Steady, Bo_. How many times had Luke said that to him? Understanding, finally. Steady, not just for the next two minutes, but for a lifetime. That would be what it took to really sit in this chair.) But for now, Luke seemed unlikely to actually need him for awhile, and he could hear Daisy thanking Miz Tisdale and saying goodbye to her. (_She's grieving, too. We need to spend more time with her_. But that was for tomorrow or the next day.) Hoped Daisy wouldn't yell at him right now for breaking up the party, but when she came into the living room and he was forced to look up at her from his semi-slouched position, she just stared quietly back before planting herself at his side on the arm of the chair. _Uncle Jesse would tan her hide for sitting on the furniture that way _– sat himself up and pulled her into his lap. Felt her snuggle into his neck and rested.

Must've been hours later that she woke him with a kiss to his forehead, saying she was off to bed and telling him to do the same; Luke would live through the night. But Bo was up now, so he just watched his oldest cousin, figuring the sun would be up soon enough, and maybe by then he'd know how to handle everything.

* * *

Well, wasn't this just perfect. He had drunk himself stupid, privately hoping that somehow the condition would be permanent, but here he was, coming to and perfectly aware of absolutely everything. The pain in his head echoed the one in his heart and together they threatened to make him sick.

But – Bo's snores.

Knew he was on the couch because that one seam between the cushions was digging into his shoulder blades like it always did anytime he'd napped here. The couch was too short for him (and Bo's feet hung off by miles whenever he happened to fall asleep here), too old to be comfortable for more than the briefest of naps, anyway. So he was on the couch of the old farmhouse where he'd grown up, and why was Bo snoring? Bo should be in their room, in bed, but – too bright for this but – managed to unglue one eyelid just enough, and there was Bo. Keeping watch over him, 'cept that watch dog done fell asleep.

Chores, he decided, would have made all of this bearable. If they'd been running a farm, there would be chores. And he could have punished himself by trying to do them, hung over and sick like he was.

Hauled himself up with some half baked plan to –

Nope. Bathroom first. Tried to stay quiet in there. No need to disturb anyone else, and in truth that was a selfish thought. Did not want to see his cousins' faces until he could trust his own not to betray his feelings. And that might take hours.

Got a grip on his stomach and was going to keep it. Headed to the kitchen with the idea of maybe some toast, but missed, somehow overshot and found himself out in the cool of the front porch. Sat himself right down on those steps, elbows on knees, legs slightly spread and head hanging down. No way to sleep like this, but a man could try.

Sleep, maybe not, but he must've lost some of his awareness of the world because he was startled by that creak in the kitchen floor behind him, that board that had never been fixed. And from the timbre (a lifetime of hearing it change as they'd all grown and gained weight) it was Bo. A walking guilt trip, his cousin. Luke had done him wrong yesterday, Bo and Daisy both. He'd been there for them from the time their uncle had passed and on through the burial, resting very little himself, but seeing that they found enough peace to sleep and stay functional. And then, once the services were over, and he'd managed to get back home, the lack of privacy had done him in. He'd found his own peace in oblivion.

He'd only been the Duke patriarch for four days, and already he'd screwed it up.

His cousin had never been light of step, but this morning, he'd clearly become an elephant, one that Luke could feel almost as well as he heard him. And he knew the moment Bo realized where he was, too. Heard the door behind him screech open then slam, and before he could yell about it (good thing, too, since yelling might actually have caused his head to explode) his cousin's hand was on his shoulder, and all that weight was thumping down next to him.

"How you doing, Lukas?" Well, he'd spent pretty nearly his whole life next to this loud man. There was absolutely no reason on Earth he should have expected him to get quiet now.

A hand in the air then dropping back into his lap, he decided, was all Bo needed in order to understand that he would live. Wished he'd had a few more hours to pull himself together, but he just didn't. It was time now. They weren't kids.

"How about you?" he managed, looking his cousin deep in the eyes.

"Not… not so great." It was the eye contact that had done it, gone right through that façade and into Bo's heart. Luke had always had the easiest access there.

And, easy as breathing, Luke pulled Bo to his side, and let his cousin lean on him. Was glad his cousin was within arm's reach. It was time.

* * *

Daisy. Sometimes she was their anchor and sometimes she was the very person that could sail them straight into those rough seas.

Over the weeks since Jesse's death, Luke had been turning the place into a farm again. Spring was mostly past so there wasn't a ton he could plant this year. But livestock, that he'd been acquiring. Bo had been part of the decision-making, but not the investment, not yet. He and Luke had agreed that until the youngest Duke was really ready to move back to Hazzard to stay, he shouldn't incur the expense of the farm. And for now, Luke's savings were enough to get the place going again.

Daisy was a disaster around the livestock, seemed to have forgotten the chores they'd spent most of their waking hours on for twenty-plus years. Was burning things she tried to cook. Was sewing one pair of pants to another. Was obviously struggling.

For all that Luke was supposed to be so intelligent, he lacked a particular skill when it came to women. He knew how to do a lot of things with the female of the species. Talking to them, however, his super-smart brain couldn't handle.

Bo ought to resent that Luke wasn't even trying, but after a lifetime with his cousin, he knew Luke wasn't very likely to change. Besides, it just went to prove that smart wasn't everything.

"Daisy." Spooked her pretty good, and he hadn't even gotten to the hard part yet. Took the ladle out of her hand and turned off the flame under her soup, just to be on the safe side. Caught a nervous look from Luke, too, out of the corner of his eye. But his oldest cousin was a safe distance away in the living room, pretending to be invisible. It was mostly working, too. "Sit," he ordered his female cousin, gently enough that she did. _Now what?_ Snuck a glance at Luke, who looked downright green. No help there. Closed his eyes.

And remembered. Understood, suddenly, why their uncle had done it so often, this eye-closing thing. Consulted Jesse silently, behind those lids, just as his uncle had probably consulted his own mother. _What do I do?_ Found his answer.

"Your mind ain't here. You ain't set fire to the house yet, but you're gonna, soon, unless you do some serious settling down. What's going on, girl?" Even managed to sound like Jesse, to his own ears, anyway. Sat across from her and waited. Watched her look at the table, slender fingers tracing old scars, and bit his tongue to keep himself from talking.

When her head lifted, he was reminded of a hundred childhood moments, when she'd catch his eye like this. _Got a secret for you, Bo_. Of course, back then, her lips would have been formed into a half-smile, right corner of the lower one between her teeth. And the look would have been followed by the name of a boy, one that his female cousin had her eye on. (_Don't tell Luke_, she'd beg, and back then he hadn't understood why. Some years later when she stopped confiding in him that way, well, by then he knew.)

"I promised Uncle Jesse I'd go back to school." It was news and, come to think of it, wasn't. Just like their uncle to nudge his only girl that way. Bo and Luke he'd leave to their own decisions. Daisy, well, he'd guide her and count on her cousins doing the same. Wasn't exactly fair, but Hazzard might never figure out how to be that kind of fair.

"And you don't want to?" He'd stayed quiet as long as he could. Bo had an opinion on this matter, and it matched his uncle's.

"I do, but I can't leave y'all here…" And this was the other half of the equation. The menfolk would guide the women, and in turn would find themselves on the other end of some serious mothering. One heck of a mixed up place, Hazzard. And Bo would never have known just how different and wonderful it was, if he hadn't left for awhile.

"We'll be fine, sweetheart." And just look at that, Luke had magically made himself visible and even downright audible again, now that all the cards were on the table. Ought to resent that, but well, it was just… Luke. And they were on the same side, so there was officially nothing to complain about. "Bo's goin' back to Atlanta for awhile anyways, and I been livin' on my own for a few years now. I promise not to starve to death without you."

She hadn't heard that last sentence, clearly hadn't heard a thing after 'Atlanta.' Disbelief.

"You're going back?"

"Just for one more season." And why did he feel like he needed to justify this? Luke was fine with it.

But she wasn't mad, he could see that now. Wasn't asking for justification or explanation. She was just surprised. And maybe, just maybe, that look on her face right now came close to admiration.

"Good for you, sugar."

* * *

It was too soon. They'd both known the date for a couple of weeks now, but it was still too soon. Daisy was up in Durham, having managed to find her way back to school after all, so now it was just the two of them left. And somewhere in the next few minutes, there would only be one. Probably. Everything in Bo's eyes and posture was second thoughts right now.

Didn't make this easier.

"Cousin." In the past few years Luke had learned one thing. "What do you want?" To ask, not to assume he knew.

"To go. To stay. Both." As to tolerating Bo's nonsense, he'd never really get any better at that, probably, but his cousin didn't even seem to notice him rolling his eyes. About the same way he never noticed the green grass or the fresh air. Luke's eye rolls, his smirks, his sarcastic comments, even, were just – there.

"Pick one." Not as impatient as it sounded really. Just stating a fact. Bo had to pick one.

"We's always been a team, Luke."

_A team of mules_, Jesse taunted from wherever he was (felt an awful lot like right here, on his own front porch). Heartbreaking and comforting all at once to realize that in this way, his uncle would never leave them. Felt his face twist through the emotions until it ended in that half-smile. Rested his hands on Bo's shoulders in a deeply familiar way. Figured there ought to be grooves there, worn into the bone and muscle, considering the number of times he'd reached out to his cousin this way.

"We's always been a team," he agreed. "And we's always gonna be. Me and the farm, we ain't goin' nowheres. We'll be here, come winter, waitin' for you."

A nod.

"Pick one."

Felt himself pulled tightly into Bo's arms. This kind of affection was just a fact of life, if you'd grown up with Bo Duke. Best just to let it happen, because it was going to anyway.

"I'll be home in December." He'd picked one. It wasn't the one Luke wanted, deep in his gut. Wanted to keep Bo here, within arm's reach, but the older Duke was a patient man. He could manage for another seven months or so before his cousin came home. Besides, in the end, Bo shouldn't have any regrets. Luke didn't. And it was Jesse's parting gift to them – no regrets.

"I'll miss you." Okay so he'd learned two things. To ask, and to say.

"Love you, Luke."

"I know." Oh well. Bo would understand.

Held on that extra minute, so close, eyes shut tight against leaking moisture, Bo's heavy breath shifting the dark curls above his ear (hidden tears in that, too), then let his cousin go and watched him get into the sedan he'd been driving. Waved as Bo drove away, and settled his face into that lopsided smile. He could wait. It wouldn't be long now before they were the Dukes of Hazzard again.


End file.
